THE  PANAMA  CANAL  ZONE 


AN  EPOCHAL  EVENT 
IN  SANITATION 


BY 

CHARLES  FRANCIS  ADAMS 


BOSTON 


191 1 


Ak I 


From  the 

Proceedings  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society 
for  May,  i 91  i 


V 


THE  PANAMA  CANAL  ZONE. 


VS 

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Leaving  New  York  for  Colon,  Monday,  March  6th,  we 
landed  in  New  York  on  our  return  Thursday,  March  30th, 
having  passed  ten  days  (13th  to  23d)  on  the  Isthmus  and  in 
the  so-called  Canal  Zone.  A winter  voyage  to  Caribbean 
waters  and  a brief  stay  on  the  Darien  Isthmus  are  not  now  so 
unusual  as,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  to  justify  record, 
much  less  to  call  for  one.  Scarcely  more  exceptional  than 
going  to  the  Mediterranean  by  way  of  the  Azores  and  Gib- 
raltar, I should  not,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  any  more 
care  to  put  detailed  mention  of  it  in  the  Proceedings  of  this 
Society  than  I would  make  record  there  of  one  of  the  numer- 
ous trips  I have,  first  and  last,  made  across  the  Atlantic. 
There  are,  however,  even  in  these  days,  trips  — and  trips;  and 
five  years  ago  a winter  trip  carried  me  into  a region  — that 
of  the  White  Nile  — not  yet  become  wholly  familiar  to  the 
tourist.  What  I there  heard  and  saw  also  proved,  if  not 
altogether  novel,  so  suggestive  that  I made  it  the  subject  of 
a communication  which,  finding  a place  in  our  Proceedings ,* 
also  at  the  time  attracted  a certain  amount  of  general  at- 
tention. Though  less  unusual,  the  Panama  experience  proved 
not  less  interesting  and  quite  as  suggestive  as  that  of  five 
years  ago  in  East  Africa.  In  Central  America  I found  my- 
self face  to  face  with  what  I cannot  but  feel  is  going  at  no  re- 
mote day  to  be  recognized  from  the  strictly  historical  point 
of  view  as  an  epochal  development;  and,  thus  feeling,  I pro- 
pose here  to  put  on  file  some  account  of  what  I saw,  and  of 
what  I feel  assured  will  in  time  result  therefrom. 

1 2 Proceedings,  xvn.  248. 


P 31186 


4 


Before  doing  this,  however,  I wish  to  forestall  an  obvious, 
though  natural  criticism.  Ten  days,  it  must  be  admitted,  are 
a very  insufficient  space  of  time  in  which  to  make  a study  of 
so  considerable  and  complicated  an  enterprise  as  this  Panama 
Canal,  — an  enterprise  with  so  many  different  aspects;  much 
less  would  any  observation  possible  to  be  made  in  that  time, 
by  one  both  a layman  in  engineering  and  a novice  in  tropical 
conditions,  suffice  for  the  drawing  of  inferences  of  value,  or 
such  as  would  be  entitled  to  consideration.  This  is  altogether 
undeniable;  and  yet,  for  reasons  which  will  presently  appear,  I 
propose  not  only  to  tell  what  I saw  and  repeat  what  I was  told, 
but  to  draw  inferences  therefrom;  always,  of  course,  subject  to 
correction  by  those  better  informed.  And  I feel  moved  so  to 
do  by  a conviction  that  what  I have  to  say  is  at  least  not 
matter  of  general  knowledge;  and,  further,  that  what  was 
altogether  novel  to  me  cannot  be  wholly  familiar  to  others. 

Premising  this,  I come  to  my  subject.  From  the  moment 
I reached  the  Isthmus  to  the  day  I left  it,  what  most  impressed 
me  was  not  the  magnitude  of  the  undertaking,  the  engineering 
and  material  difficulties  encountered  in  carrying  it  to  a suc- 
cessful issue,  nor  yet  the  administrative  ability  displayed  in 
overcoming  those  difficulties;  — of  all  these  I shall  later  on 
have  something  to  say;  but  it  was  not  these  which  from  start 
to  finish  interested  me  most.  What  did  most  interest  as  well 
as  surprise  me  was  the  morale  apparent  in  those  I encountered, 
the  high  standard  of  their  physical  condition,  and  the  energy, 
alertness  and  zeal  with  which  amid  tropical  surroundings  all, 
from  highest  to  lowest,  went  at  their  work.  This  was  un- 
mistakable, and  apparent  from  the  day  I left  New  York. 
On  the  steamer  were  various  employes,  or  members  of  the 
families  of  employes,  — both  sexes  and  all  ages,  — people  who 
had  been  in  the  Zone  for  years  and  were  now  returning  from 
a visit  to  their  homes,  whether  for  purposes  of  business  or  rec- 
reation. Not  one  but  was  ready  and  even  glad  to  go  back; 
all  looked  forward  to  remaining  there  for  the  end  — till,  as  the 
expression  went,  they  “saw  the  thing  through.”  For  them 
existence  and  labor  in  the  tropics,  on  the  Chagres  River  or 
in  the  Culebra  Cut,  had  neither  terrors  nor  deprivations,  nor 
inconveniences  even.  They  actually  professed  to  like  the 
climate  and  life,  and  to  be  more  than  satisfied  with  their  jobs. 


5 


And  this  expression  was  uniform;  nor,  evidently,  was  it  in  any 
way  forced  or  simulated.  Those  I met  also  were  unmistak- 
ably healthy  in  aspect;  in  them  and  in  their  bodily  move- 
ments no  indication  was  to  be  seen  of  that  lassitude  and 
those  anaemic  conditions  which  we  are  accustomed  to  asso- 
ciate with  any  prolonged  residence  in  the  tropics,  a region 
in  the  present  case  ten  degrees  only  removed  from  the 
Equator.  Young  and  old,  they  were  a ruddy-faced,  well-con- 
ditioned set,  both  in  aspect  and  in  action  physically  in  good 
case. 

So  impressed  from  the  start,  as  I went  on  these  things  more 
and  more  forced  themselves  on  my  notice,  incessantly  calling 
for  explanation.  I had  heard  vaguely  of  measures  of  sanita- 
tion enforced  in  the  Canal  Zone,  and  of  a consequent  de- 
crease in  the  rate  of  mortality;  but  not  the  less  the  vicinage 
of  the  treacherous,  death-dealing  Chagres  still  in  association 
remained  the  worst  reputed  region,  “the  foremost  pest-hole,” 
of  the  earth,  infamous  for  its  fevers,  and  interesting  only  be- 
cause of  the  variety  of  its  malarial  disorders  and  pestilences. 
Its  sanitary  conditions  might  be  less  wholly  bad ; but  that  they 
should  be  positively,  and  in  comparison  with  other  places, 
good,  surpassed  reasonable  belief. 

If  now,  however,  I were  asked  what  single  thing  seen  im- 
pressed me  most  of  all  I saw  during  my  stay  in  the  Canal 
Zone,  I should  reply,  not  the  Gatun  Dam  nor  yet  the 
Culebra  Cut,  but  the  afternoon  and  evening  of  March  18 
spent  at  Camp  Elliott,  as  it  is  called,  an  elevation  about  equi- 
distant from  both  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  and  supposed  to  be 
not  far  from  the  spot  where  Francis  Drake,  three  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  years  ago,  caught  from  the  branches  of  a lofty 
tree  his  first  momentous  glimpse  of  what  men  then  called  the 
South  Sea.  Camp  Elliott,  located  on  high  ground  in  the  midst 
of  a tropical  jungle,  half  a mile  only  from  the  banks  of  the 
Chagres,  has  for  two  consecutive  years  been  th6  home  of  a 
detachment  of  U.  S.  marines  under  command  of  Major  Smed- 
ley  D.  Butler.  A large  party  of  visitors  had  been  invited  there 
on  this  occasion  to  witness  a drill,  and  be  guests  at  an  evening’s 
entertainment.  We  went  from  Panama  by  train  in  the  early 
afternoon,  returning  in  the  late  evening.  The  force  of  marines 
at  the  camp  numbered  five  hundred  men,  composing  two 


6 


battalions.  As  I have  said,  they  had  been  stationed  there  two 
years;  yet  a finer,  healthier-looking,  more  active  and  better- 
conditioned  body  of  men  — “huskier”  is  the  word  — I do 
not  remember  to  have  seen;  and,  of  the  whole  number  (487) 
then  there,  I was  assured  by  the  post  physician  not  one  was 
that  day  sick  in  hospital.  Such  a record  would  be  remarkable 
anywhere;  but  half  a mile  away  from  the  Chagres,  it  was,  I 
submit,  well  calculated  to  excite  a special  wonder. 

My  occasions  for  surprise  were,  however,  not  confined  to 
the  visit  at  Camp  Elliott;  the  next  almost  equally  striking  inci- 
dent was  of  a nature  peculiarly  pleasing.  The  following  even- 
ing another  social  engagement  carried  me  out,  this  time  to 
Culebra,  the  site  of  the  much  advertised  “cut,”  or  excavation. 
The  local  travel,  especially  the  evening  local  travel,  on  the 
Panama  railroad  is  heavy;  surprisingly  so,  indeed.  Trains  of 
six  coaches  are  crowded;  and  while  many  nationalities  and  all 
shades  of  color,  from  pure  white  to  ebony,  are  represented, 
women  and  young  children  make  up  a larger  proportion  of  the 
whole  than  is  usual  with  us.  Later  in  the  evening  we  were 
to  take  the  return  train  to  Panama,  a distance  of  perhaps  a 
dozen  miles.  Coming  on  our  way  back  to  the  Culebra  station, 
at  about  nine  o’clock,  we  found  the  platforms  thronged  much 
as  is  apt  to  be  the  case  after  sundown  at  all  southern  way 
stations,  — people  were  there,  some  to  take  the  train,  others 
accompanying  visitors  about  to  take  it,  while  a good  many 
seemed  to  be  idlers  brought  together  by  mere  curiosity  or  to 
enjoy  the  evening’s  coolness.  Moving  along  towards  the  point 
where  the  head  of  the  train  I was  to  take  would  probably  stop, 
I there  came  across  a group  of  American  girls,  eight  or  ten  in 
number,  and  varying  in  age  from  perhaps  ten  to  fifteen.  Very 
nicely  and  neatly  dressed  in  their  thin  white  frocks,  with  heads 
uncovered,  some  of  them,  like  ourselves,  had  come  to  take  the 
train  home,  others  to  see  their  companions  off.  A more  healthy, 
well-to-do  and  companionable  group  of  children  could  not 
under  similar  conditions  have  been  met  at  any  station  within 
twenty  miles  of  Boston.  Perfectly  at  home,  and  at  ease  sitting 
and  standing,  without  a thought  of  malaria  or  any  other  danger, 
they  were  chatting  and  laughing  under  the  glare  of  the  station 
lights,  about  which  not  an  insect  was  flitting;  while  the  hum 
of  the  mosquito  was  noticeable  from  its  absence.  Not  one  was 


7 


to  be  heard.  The  material,  social  and  meteorological  condi- 
tions would  in  every  respect  have  compared  favorably  with 
those  to  which  we  here  are  accustomed  during  the  midsummer 
season;  the  single  noticeable  difference  was  the  more  complete 
absence  of  insect  life,  whether  merely  annoying  or  aggressively 
noxious.  And  this  on  the  slope  of  the  death-dealing  Chagres! 

I freely  confess  I could  not  understand  it;  nor,  after  a fairly 
intelligent  effort  at  enlightenment  from  the  most  authori- 
tative and  best  informed  sources,  do  I really  understand  it  yet. 
I questioned  Colonel  Gorgas,  the  head  of  the  Sanitary  Depart- 
ment, of  whom  and  whose  evidence  I shall  presently  have 
more  to  say.  I met  and  talked  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.  C.  Mallet; 
he  a man  of  over  fifty,  English  born,  from  youth  a resident  on 
the  Isthmus,  and,  since  1908,  British  Minister  Resident  at 
Panama;  she,  of  Spanish  descent,  born  in  Panama.1  So  far  as 
the  yellow  fever  was  concerned,  Madam  Mallet,  an  Obarrio 
and  so  to  the  manner  born,  was,  it  may  be  inferred,  immune, 
having  presumably  gone  through  the  dread  ordeal  vicariously, 
as  it  were,  in  the  persons  of  forbears  more  or  less  remote.  Indeed, 
a belief,  I was  assured,  exists  that  no  child  born  within  Panama 
town  limits  need  later  fear  the  wmito.  Mr.  Mallet,  less  fortu- 
nate in  this  respect,  had,  by  the  narrowest  of  possible  margins, 
survived  an  attack.  They  both  had  lived  in  Panama  before 
the  French  attempt  at  canal  construction,  all  through  the  times 
of  that  attempt,  and  since  during  the  American  regime.  Their 
reminiscences  were  vivid;  at  times,  ghastly  and  pathetic.  Very 

1 I had  written  Creole,  but  am  given  to  understand  that  among  the  English- 
speaking  people  of  Central  America  the  designation  Creole  is,  by  general  accept- 
ance, now  supposed  to  imply  an  infusion  of  African  blood;  that,  vulgarly,  it  is 
taken  to  be  somewhat  synonymous  with  Mulatto.  A grosser  and  more  absurd 
misapprehension  could  hardly  be  imagined.  It  is  next  and  elsewhere  assumed 
that  any  person  of  European  blood  born  in  the  West  Indies  is  a Creole.  This  is 
little  less  incorrect  than  the  African  assumption.  No  one  ever  heard  of  a Scotch, 
or  Dutch,  or  Irish  Creole.  On  the  contrary,  as  the  Century  Dictionary  defines  it, 
the  word  Creole  signified  originally  one  of  West  Indian  or  Central  American 
birth  descended  from  Spanish  ancestors,  “as  distinguished  from  immigrants  of 
European  blood  and  from  the  aboriginal  negroes  and  natives  of  mixed  blood.” 
Subsequently  the  significance  was  broadened  to  cover  all  West  Indians  of  Latin 
descent.  The  Empress  Josephine,  for  instance,  was  a French  Creole.  The  freedom 
of  the  Creole’s  blood  from  any  native  or  African  admixture  was  a matter  of  pride. 
The  mere  suggestion  of  such  an  admixture  would  in  old  Creole  days  have  been 
resented  as  an  unpardonable  insult.  Under  a correct  acceptance  of  terms  Mrs. 
Mallet  would,  therefore,  be  Creole  par  excellence;  Madame  Beauharnais  was 
French  Creole. 


8 


curious  on  the  subject,  I asked  Madam  Mallet  as  to  the  normal 
conditions  at  that  period  of  the  year;  for  though  I remembered 
well  both  the  stifling  heat  and  the  insect  life  I had  encountered 
five  years  previous  on  the  White  Nile  at  the  same  period  of  the 
year  (March)  and  in  exactly  the  same  latitude  (io°  North),  be- 
tween the  two  environments  there  seemed  nothing  in  com- 
mon. The  White  Nile  was  a stagnant  pest-hole  swarming  with 
insect  life;  the  Chagres  was  to  all  appearance  an  agreeable 
winter  health-resort.  Even  Pharaoh’s  old  plague,  the  com- 
mon house-fly,  was  noticeable  only  from  his  absence.  Thus 
puzzled,  I asked  Madam  Mallet  as  to  the  facts,  and  her  expla- 
nation thereof.  Was  it  a question  of  season?  — and  was  this  v 
the  off  season?  The1  reply  I got  was  to  the  point,  and  given 
with  Latin  animation.  Madam  Mallet  assured  me  that,  had 
I found  myself  ten  years  before  where  I then  was  at  the  same 
season  of  the  year,  I would  have  been  devoured  by  mosquitoes, 
while  the  flies  would  have  been  as  ubiquitous  as  they  were  un- 
bearable. To  my  further  question  of  how  she  — born  in 
Panama,  and  all  her  life  a resident  of  the  inmost  quarter  of  the 
town  of  Panama  itself  — still  in  fact  there  domiciled  — how  she 
accounted  for  it,  the  response  was  quick  and  to  the  point,  — 
a reply  conveyed  quite  as  much  through  the  movements  of  the 
hands  as  by  the  mouth,  — “I  explain  it  in  one  word  — Colonel 
Goethals!” 

Though  indisputably  gratifying  and  to  the  last  degree  sug- 
gestive, this  answer,  besides  being  manifestly  unjust  to  others, 
especially  Colonel  Gorgas,  was,  even  to  a layman  like  myself, 
not  in  all  respects  satisfactory.  I was  quite  conscious  that  my 
informant  was  speaking  somewhat  metaphorically,  and  had  no 
idea  that  what  she  said  would  be  taken  in  a literal  way;  much 
less  be  repeated,  and  in  print.  Moreover,  even  when  accom-  ** 
panied  by  these  limitations,  the  explanation  left  much  to  be 
accounted  for.  For  instance,  we  were  then  sitting  at  table,  but 
behind  the  wire  screens  always  prescribed  by  the  officials  in 
charge  of  sanitation  for  every  place  of  abode;  the  following 
day,  however,  I chanced  to  meet  at  the  hotel  Dr.  Morton 
Prince  of  Boston,  there  in  company  with  some  ladies  from 
New  York,  all  members  of  a large  excursion  party  come  into 
Colon  the  day  before.  They  had  been  “ doing”  the  Canal, 
and  were  to  pass  the  night  at  Panama.  Dining  together,  at 


9 


about  nine  o’clock  we  all  went  out  on  the  broad  verandah  of 
the  hotel,  overlooking  the  Pacific.  Not  fancying  the  sense  of 
enclosure  within  the  screened  part  of  the  gallery,  Dr.  Prince 
suggested  that  we  go  outside,  sitting  and  chatting  in  the  open. 
We  did  so,  a party  of  eight  or  ten,  all  new-comers  and  clad  in 
the  light  thin  garments  customarily  worn  in  the  tropics.  We 
sat  there  in  the  coolness  of  the  early  night  for  perhaps  an  hour, 
no  screen  or  protection  of  any  kind  between  us  and  the  trees 
. and  shrubs  before  the  hotel;  a powerful  electric  light  was 
flaring  directly  over  our  heads,  and  yet  not  an  insect  of  any 
kind  — fly,  moth  or  gnat  — was  either  visible  or  audible; 
the  shard-borne  beetle  with  his  noisy  hum  was  as  noticeably 
absent  as  was  the  mosquito’s  sharp  acrid  note.  All  the  same, 
when  the  next  day  I mentioned  this  performance  to  Colonel 
Gorgas,  he  shook  his  head  with  a disapproving  look;  he  did 
not  like  that  sort  of  thing  — it  was  a reckless  braving  of  danger; 
and,  moreover,  contrary  to  regulation.  Indeed,  I had  myself 
to  admit  on  better  reflection  that  it  was  a somewhat  ill-consid- 
ered proceeding. 

Again,  and  a more  unaccountable  experience  than  any  I 
have  yet  described: — While  at  Ancon,  the  suburb  of  Panama 
in  which  are  the  United  States  government  buildings,  including 
the  Tivoli  Hotel,  I drove  out,  as  is  the  custom  with  all  tourists, 
to  visit  the  site  and  few  remains  of  Old  Panama,  as  it  is  called, 
— the  original  Spanish  settlement  on  the  South  Sea  side  of 
Darien,  the  point  from  which  Pizarro  sailed  forth,  which 
Drake  half  a century  later  reconnoitred  from  both  its  land 
and  water  sides,  and  the  stronghold  which  the  buccaneer  Mor- 
gan captured,  sacked  and  practically  destroyed  in  1671.  Once 
a busy  and,  for  those  days,  populous  and  wealthy  place,  of 
r*  Panama  Viejo  — in  its  way,  I fancy,  somewhat  of  an  histori- 
cal myth  — I shall  perhaps  presently  have  something  to  say; 
meanwhile  in  this  immediate  connection  I will  only  re- 
mark that  the  site,  fronting  an  exposed  tidal  roadstead,  is  a 
wholly  uninhabited  jungle,  rising  in  the  midst  of  which,  a land- 
mark from  sea  or  shore,  is  one  lofty  and  well-preserved  cathe- 
dral tower  of  solid  masonry  compact.  A mile  or  so  away  on  the 
landward  side  the  remains  of  an  old  cobblestone  road,  or 
causeway,  lead  across  a stone  bridge,  disappearing  in  the 
tropical  jungle  on  either  side  of  the  muddy  stream  spanned  by 


10 


a single  arch  of  solid  masonry.  Facing  the  sea,  or  back  from 
it,  but  hidden  in  the  well-nigh  impenetrable  tropical  growth, 
are  yet  other  ruined  foundations,  walls  and  buttresses,  and 
vaults  in  what  once  were  cellars.  These  mark  the  sites  of  re- 
ligious edifices  or  public  buildings;  while  the  ground  adjacent 
is  covered  with  shards  or  fragments  of  what  once  was  rather 
solid  masonry.  As  a seat  of  traffic,  the  locality  was  abandoned 
more  than  two  centuries  ago  in  favor  of  the  site  of  present 
Panama.  The  reason  for  its  abandonment  is  obvious.  As  a 
port,  it  was  not  only  unprotected  from  gales,  but  its  depth  of 
water  in  no  way  met  the  requirements  of  even  seventeenth- 
century  maritime  construction.  So,  its  fate  already  sealed, 
the  buccaneer  Morgan,  in  1671,  dealt  its  death  blow  to  the 
first  Panama.  From  that  blow  it  never  rallied. 

Having,  after  tourist  fashion  and  quite  uninformed,  made 
a hasty  preliminary  visit  to  the  spot,  a day  or  two  later  at  the 
quarters  of  Admiral  H.  H.  Rousseau  and  Lieut.  Col.  D.  DuBose 
Gaillard  — both  more  or  less  archaeologically  inclined  — my 
companion,  Mr.  Frank  D.  Millet,  and  myself  were  shown  an 
ancient  and  contemporary  ground-plan  of  the  vanished  town, 
and  descriptions  of  it  from  Hakluyt’s  Voyages  and  Esqueme- 
lin’s  Narrative  were  brought  to  our  notice.  So,  better  advised 
and  with  greatly  increased  interest,  we  determined  on  a second 
and  more  carefully  considered  visit.  Leaving  the  hotel  at 
half  past  six  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  March  21,  we  did 
not  get  back  until  eleven,  having 'passed  some  three  hours  in 
going  over  every  accessible  portion  of  the  site.  In  other  re- 
spects most  interesting,  the  point  to  which  I now  want  to  call 
attention  was,  and  is,  to  me  most  interesting  of  all.  More- 
over, it  is  still  inexplicable.  Here  was  a tropical  sea-shore 
locality,  six  hundred  miles  only  from  the  Equator,  undrained 
and  densely  overgrown;  the  day,  slightly  overcast  at  times, 
was  yet  reasonably  clear;  the  time  was  between  7 and  10 
o’clock,  a.  m.;  no  noticeable  wind  was  blowing;  apparently  it 
was  an  ordinary  day  for  the  locality,  towards  the  close  of  the 
dry  season;  yet,  during  those  three  hours  of  constant  physical 
activity,  the  heat,  though  considerable,  was  in  no  degree  op- 
pressive, nor  can  I recall  having  been  annoyed  by  fly  or  gnat. 
I heard,  though  I did  not  see  them,  just  two  mosquitoes. 
Limits  had  to  be  allowed  to  the  achievements  of  Colonel 


11 


Goethals  even;  and  it  was  not  reasonable  to  maintain  that  he 
had  extinguished  the  fly,  the  gnat  and  the  mosquito  not  only 
in  the  Canal  Zone,  but  throughout  Panamanian  limits.  Quite 
unable  satisfactorily  to  account  for  them,  I merely  state 
facts  and  report  conditions  as  they  came  under  my  actual 
observation.1 

Meanwhile,  though  American  sanitation  has  not  accom- 
plished impossibilities,  it  has  indisputably  wrought  wonders. 
Into  its  details  I do  not  propose  to  enter.  If  not  familiar  now, 
they  will  soon  become  so;  for  the  war  on  household  disease 
disseminators  — the  fly,  the  mosquito,  the  flea,  the  bug  and 
the  rat  — now  systematically  inaugurated  in  the  Canal  Zone, 
will  at  no  remote  day  be  taken  up  and  vigorously  carried  on 
in  all  countries  properly  to  be  classed  as  civilized.  In  time,  it 
will  even  extend  to  the  New  England  tavern,  boarding-house 
and  railroad  refreshment-room.  The  rules  and  directions  for 
its  conduct  will  then  have  been  simplified,  and  be  in  the  hands 
of  every  one;  so  I will  not  dwell  upon  them  here  and  now  in  a 
paper  designed  for  record  only.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  so  far 
as  the  sanitation  of  the  Canal  Zone  is  concerned  — my  present 
thesis  — it  is  a matter  purely  of  drainage,  screening,  the  free 
and  systematic  use  of  oils  and  disinfectants,  and  cutting  and 
firing;  the  whole  enforced  by  rigid  and  unremitting  inspection 
and  policing.  In  the  case  of  disease  also,  everlasting  vigilance 
is  the  price  of  liberty.  The  very  considerable  results  already 
reached  are  due  to  no  great  engineering  feat  — the  making  of 
a lake  where  once  was  a morass,  or  the  laying  out  and  con- 
struction of  a modern  cloaca  maxima;  — they  have,  on  the 
contrary,  been  brought  about  as  the  result  of  patient,  long- 
continued  observation,  supplemented  by  a system  of  rigidly 
policed  sanitary  regulation.  Very  matter-of-fact,  common- 
place even  in  detail,  about  those  results  there  is  nothing 
dramatic;  little  that  strikes  the  eye.  The  appeal,  based  largely 
on  the  noticeable  absence  of  filth  and  a study  of  the  bills  of 
mortality,  is  to  the  senses  rather  than  to  the  imagination. 

1 While  correcting  the  final  proof  sheets  of  this  paper,  I am  informed  by- 
Mr.  J.  B.  Bishop,  in  a letter  dated  Ancon,  May  24,  that,  during  the  previous 
ten  days,  “ we  have  had  a mosquito  pest  covering  the  whole  zone.  . . . Dur- 
ing my  four  years  of  residence  here  I have  seen  nothing  comparable  to  it.  I 
have  seen  more  mosquitoes  in  the  last  week  than  I have  seen  during  the  pre- 
— vious  four  years.”  He  adds,  “ they  are  not  poison-bearing;  though  in  other 
ways  as  annoying  as  any  specimens  of  the  species  I have  ever  seen.” 


12 


This  element  of  the  commonplace  and  obvious  is,  however, 
one  we  are  slow  to  recognize  as  always  affecting  the  problem. 
In  facing  it  we  have,  also,  continually  to  guard  ourselves 
against  preconceptions.  Take,  for  example,  the  dreaded 
Chagres  fever,  so-called.  I endeavored  to  obtain  from  Colonel 
Gorgas  something  in  the  nature  of  a diagnosis  of  it  as  a classi- 
fied disease.  Naturally,  the  result  was  not  satisfactory;  in- 
deed, it  was  quite  the  reverse  of  satisfactory.  He  spoke  of  it 
as  an  acute  malarial  disorder,  wholly  distinct  from  yellow 
fever,  but  in  more  malignant  cases  frequently  reported  as 
such.  A moment’s  reflection  sufficed  to  show  me  how  ill-con- 
sidered my  query  was.  It  is  still  called  a fever  and  classified 
as  such;  but  while  it  unquestionably  is  accompanied  with 
febrile  action,  it  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a poisoning  — 
a poisoning  exactly  like  that  from  the  bite  of  a moccasin  or 
rattlesnake.  As  such  only  can  it  properly  be  classified.  Its 
cause,  dramatic  in  a way  and  terribly  insidious,  is  not  far 
to  seek. 

As  a river  the  Chagres  is  unique;  it  constitutes  a class  by 
itself.  A mountain  stream,  a hundred  and  twenty  miles  per- 
haps in  length,  when  I saw  it,  — towards  the  close  of  the  dry 
season,  — it  was  flowing  sluggishly  along,  a yellow  rivulet, 
meandering  through  a tropical  morass.  But  the  rainfall,  when 
it  comes,  is  in  that  country  something  of  which  we  in  New 
England  have  no  conception.  For  instance,  I was  assured  by 
no  less  an  authority  than  Mr.  J.  B.  Bishop,  the  Secretary  of 
the  Isthmian  Canal  Commission,  that  there  was  a well-estab- 
lished record  of  close  upon  nine  solid  feet  of  rain  at  a point  in 
the  Chagres  water-shed,  all  within  two  successive  calendar 
months,  — or,  to  be  more  specific,  a fall  of  one  hundred  and 
three  measured  inches  in  sixty-one  days  of  the  months  of  No- 
vember and  December,  1909.  That  under  such  conditions  the 
Chagres  has  been  known  to  rise  twenty-five  feet  in  a single  day 
is  no  occasion  for  surprise.  The  conductor  is  simply  choked. 
The  natural  result  follows.  The  neighboring  country  becomes 
a morass;  and,  as  the  torrent  rapidly  recedes,  the  region  which 
emerges  from  under  it  remains  saturated  and  stagnant  sub- 
ject to  tropical  conditions,  an  ideal  breeding-place  for  every 
noxious  reptile  or  poisonous  insect.  Hence  the  so-called  fever; 
for  the  bite  of  the  Hindostan  cobra  was  infinitely  less  to 


13 


be  dreaded  than  was  the  sting  of  the  Chagres  mosquito. 
Formerly  supposed  to  be  of  atmospheric  origin,  the  disorder 
was  classified  as  a miasmatic  fever  peculiar  to  a locality; 
now,  under  control,  it  is  practically  extinct.  But,  as  the  ques- 
tion I put  to  Colonel  Gorgas  showed,  the  name  and  recollec- 
tion abide. 

It  is  the  same  with  the  yellow  fever;  though  that,  as  every 
one  at  last  knows,  has  been  traced  down  to  a single  one  of  the 
very  numerous  species  of  the  genus  mosquito  — the  compara- 
tively noiseless  but  deadly  stegomyia.  Men  fear  the  cobra  and 
avoid  the  rattlesnake,  — the  moccasin  is  looked  upon  as  very 
deadly,  and  the  copper-head  has  become  a simile;  but,  so 
far  as  those  of  the  human  race  were  concerned,  cobra  and 
rattler,  moccasin  and  copper-head,  taken  separately  or  massed 
together,  were  mere  negligible  dangers  as  compared  with  the 
stegomyia  mosquito.  The  cobra  only  bites,  and  in  biting  kills 
his  single  victim,  and  that  is  the  end;  the  stegomyia , on  the  con- 
trary, not  only  kills  that  victim  but  injects  into  countless 
fresh  victims  the  deadly  virus  drawn  as  food  from  former 
victims.  The  next  thing  inferred  is  obvious;  and  a theory  is 
now  confidently  maintained  that  all  other  forms  of  tropical 
malaria,  so  called,  are  due  to  approximately  identical  causes. 
In  no  way  contagious,  and  in  only  much  less  if  in  any  degree 
of  miasmatic  origin,  they  are  absolutely  preventable;  and  this 
great  result,  if  it  in  ripeness  of  time  actually  materializes, 
while  elsewhere  foreshadowed,  has  been  brought  to  its  demon- 
stration in  the  Canal  Zone  of  to-day.  Its  most  dramatic 
and  monumental  achievement,  the  prevention,  and  the  conse- 
quent practical  extinction  of  the  yellow  fever,  belongs  exclusively 
to  the  Medical  Department  of  the  United  States  Army.  It 
was  the  outcome  of  our  Spanish  War  (1901),  thereby  made 
memorable.  Thus  the  Canal  Zone  is  an  object  lesson,  and  the 
Canal  itself  a monument;  for  the  last  was,  humanly  speaking, 
made  possible  by  a medical  triumph,  the  like  of  which  in 
importance  to  mankind  has  not  been  equalled  since  the  dis- 
coveries of  anaesthetics  and  antiseptics. 

And  this  it  is  which  caused  me  at  the  outset  to  say  that  the 
great  and  most  startling  impression  left  on  me  by  what  I saw 
on  my  visit  to  the  Zone  was  not  the  magnified  ditch  itself,  nor 
the  engineering  feats  accomplished;  nor  yet  the  construction 


14 


work  in  progress.  These  are  remarkable;  but  solely,  so  far  as 
I am  competent  to  judge,  because  of  their  magnitude  and  con- 
centratedness. I have  frequently  seen  steam  shovels  at  work; 
though  never  so  many,  nor  quite  so  busily,  as  now  in  the  Cule- 
bra  Cut.  So  I have  watched  pneumatic  drills  as  they  bored 
into  the  rock,  and  heard  the  detonation  of  the  dynamite; 
though  at  Panama  more  drills  would  *be  working  at  once  and 
in  closer  proximity  than  I ever  saw  before,  and  the  blasts  when 
the  day’s  work  was  done  sounded  like  a discharge  of  artillery 
in  battle.  For  centuries  all  civilized  nations  have  been  build- 
ing canals  and  dams,  though  the  Gatun  Dam  breaks  the  rec- 
ord for  bigness;  the  locks,  too,  at  Panama  are  larger  and  longer, 
and  more  elaborate  and  imposing  thaif  any  yet  designed.  All 
this  is  true;  and  yet  it  failed  deeply  Id  impress  me.  After  all, 
it  was  a mere  question  of  bigness — the  something  more  or  some- 
thing less;  and,  as  a result  of  organized  energy  and  systematic 
co-operation  of  forces  for  rapid  'daily  accomplishment,  I still 
think  the  construction  of  the  Pacific  railroads  fifty  years  ago 
at  the  rate  of  half  a dozen  miles  a day,  every  material,  even 
water,  having  to  be  hauled  to  the  moving  camp  which  consti- 
tuted the  advancing  front,  — this  was  by  far  a more  dramatic 
display  than  anything  now  to  be  seen  on  the  Isthmus.  Again, 
the  Gatun  Dam  is  a great  conception;  but  as  such  the  recent 
tunnelling  of  the  Hudson  and  the  subterranean  honeycombing 
of  Manhattan  Island,  combined  with  the  bridging  of  the  East 
River,  impress  me  more.  Finally,  the  locks  at  the  entrance  and 
outlet  of  the  proposed  Chagres  Lake  are  imposing  structures; 
but  to  my  mind  the  terminal  stations  built,  or  now  in  process 
of  building,  in  the  heart  of  New  York  city,  are  more  imposing. 
As  I have  said,  all  this  is  a mere  question  of  degree,  and  time 
out  of  mind  the  world  has  been  building  roads  and  water-ways; 
moreover,  behind  this  particular  water-way  is  the  Treasury  of 
the  United  States.  But  when  it  comes  to  the  sanitation  which 
made  all  that  is  now  going  on  at  Panama  humanly  and  hu- 
manely possible,  — vanquishing  pestilence  and,  while  harness- 
ing the  Chagres,  also  making  it  innocuous  to  those  both  working 
and  dwelling  on  its  banks,  — this  is  new;  and  the  like  of  it  the 
world  had  not  before  seen.  Face  to  face  with  it,  reading  of  it 
in  the  movements  of  the  men  and  the  faces  of  the  children,  I 
frankly  admit  what  I saw  smote  the  imagination.  Seeing  the 


15 


American  at  his  very  best,  one  felt  — at  least,  I felt,  as  never 
before  — a pardonable  pride  of  race. 

Moreover,  in  the  Panama  Canal  Zone  of  to-day  you  do  see 
the  American  at  his  best  — individually  and  collectively.  The 
region,  and  those  living  and  laboring  there,  impress  one  coming 
freshly  from  without  as  singularly  sober,  orderly,  well  conducted, 
and  policed.  There  is  a noticeable  absence  of  that  roughness, 
drunkenness  and  immorality,  — that  carelessness  of  life  and 
defiance  of  its  decencies  traditionally  associated  with  our 
American  improvised  communities  pushing  to  rapid  comple- 
tion some  great  enterprise  involving  lavish  expenditure,  both 
inevitable  and  incessant.  In  the  building  of  the  Union  Pacific, 
the  town  of  Julesburg  boasted  of  its  wickedness.  Hell  was  at 
Julesburg  always  equalled,  and  not  unusually  or  infrequently 
outdone.  Panama  once,  and  that  not  so  very  long  ago,  bade 
fair  to  perpetuate  the  Julesburg  tradition  in  this  particular.1 
There  is  to-day  no  Julesburg  in  the  Canal  Zone.  The  impres- 
sion in  this  respect  made  on  the  newly  arriving  stranger  is 
curious;  but,  though  instinctive,  quite  unmistakable.  It  is 
in  the  air;  you  are  at  once  conscious  of  its  presence.  It  was 
silently  evidenced  by  the  issuance  during  the  month  I was 
there  (March)  of  over  20,000  postal  money  orders,  representing 
a little  short  of  half  a million  dollars  of  savings,  $370,000  of 
which  was  payable  in  the  United  States.  Along  the  banks  of 
the  Chagres  the  workman  to-day  lives  cheaper,  enjoys  appar- 
ently better  health,  and  saves  more  than  he  can  in  Massachu- 
setts. And  for  all  this  — order,  thrift,  temperance,  health  — 
credit  is  due  to  someone. 

Until  I landed  at  Colon,  I had  never  met  either  Colonel 
Goethals  or  Colonel  Gorgas;  nor,  indeed,  with  a single  excep- 
tion, any  one  of  the  small  but  very  able  body  of  officers  and 
civil  officials  in  charge  of  the  Canal  work.  Mr.  Bishop  I had 
known  long,  and  his  connection  with  the  Canal  Record  afforded 

1 “In  1882,  actual  construction  was  commenced  [under  the  French],  and  sev- 
eral thousand  laborers  were  put  to  work  along  the  line.  Then  graft,  extravagance, 
immorality  and  disease  began  to  pervade  the  scene.  Froude,  describing  conditions 
after  a visit  to  the  seat  of  French  operations,  declared:  ‘In  all  the  world  there  is 
not,  perhaps,  now  concentrated  in  any  single  spot  so  much  swindling  and  villainy, 
so  much  foul  disease,  such  a hideous  dungheap  of  moral  and  physical  abomination, 
as  in  the  scene  of  this  far-famed  undertaking  of  the  nineteenth  century.”  Forbs- 
Lindsay,  Panama  and  the  Canal  To-day,  69. 


16 


easy  access  to  a vast  store  of  information  not  otherwise  acces- 
sible, and  at  once  interesting  and  reliable.  His  was  a veritable 
vox  clamantis  in  tropico.  But,  subsequently,  I found  reason  to 
regard  all  these  gentlemen  with  ever-increasing  respect;  and 
on  what  I have  come  to  consider  the  best  of  grounds.  In  the 
course  of  a fairly  long  and  somewhat  varied  life  it  has  been  my 
fortune  to  be  brought  in  contact  with  many  men  — men  promi- 
nent politically,  and  in  administrative  and  professional  work; 
generals  in  command  of  great  armies  in  active  warfare;  execu- 
tives in  the  direction  of  large  enterprises;  financiers;  notables 
of  the  market-place.  The  one  thing  in  these  contacts  which 
has  always  insensibly  but  most  impressed  me  has  been  the 
presence  or  absence  in  individuals  of  that  element  known  as 
Character.  Whether  there  or  not  there,  the  sense  of  its  being 
there,  or  not  being  there,  is  instinctive.  If  there,  in  the  man 
at  the  head,  the  thing  permeates.  You  are  conscious  of  it  in 
every  part;  and  I think  Madam  Mallet  was  right.  Her  female 
instinct  guided  her  straight  to  the  central  fact.  It  is  so  in 
Panama.  The  individuality  and  character  of  Colonel  Goethals 
to-day  permeate,  and  permeate  visibly,  the  entire  Zone;  — un- 
consciously on  his  part,  unconsciously  on  the  part  of  others,  his 
influence  is  pervasive.1  Nor,  in  expressing  this  opinion  of 
Colonel  Goethals,  do  I for  a moment  wish  to  depreciate,  much 
less  to  ignore,  the  zeal  and  fidelity  shown  by  the  heads  of  de- 
partment in  the  present  Canal  organization.  Gorgas,  Hodges, 
Gaillard,  Devol,  Rousseau,  Bishop,  one  and  all,  so  far  as  my 
brief  stay  afforded  me  opportunities  of  reaching  an  opinion, 
were  stamped  by  the  same  die.  Of  some,  of  course,  I sawdbut 
little;  others  I did  not  meet  at  all:  but  indications  of  the  in- 
fluence of  Goethals  were,  I thought,  perceptible  everywhere. 
Quiet,  reserved,  unassuming,  known  to  every  one  engaged  on 
the  work  but  noticed,  as  he  quietly  moved  around,  by  no  one, 
he  gave  the  impression  of  conscious  because  innate  but  un- 
obtrusive force.  He  was  a natural  diplomat  as  well  as  an  edu- 
cated engineer;  and,  whether  dealing  with  labor  conditions  or 
Latin-American  officials  and  races,  the  Panama  situation  of 
to-day  stands  in  quite  as  much  ,need  of  a skilful  diplomat  as 
of  a trained  engineer. 

1 On  this  point,  see  the  paper  entitled  “ The  Panama  Canal,”  in  the  report  of 
the  Am.  Inst,  of  Mining  Engineers,  for  November,  1910,  pp.  83,  84. 


17 


Especially  was  I impressed,  moreover,  and  most  favorably 
so,  by  a certain  modesty  of  attitude  and  expression  observed 
by  all  I talked  with  towards  those  who  had  preceded  them  in 
the  enterprise,  especially  the  French.  Far  from  any  tendency 
to  a depreciatory  tone,  open  or  covert,  or  to  an  attitude  of 
self-glorification,  all  I saw  and  heard  seemed  almost  to  seek 
occasion  to  express  their  sense  of  the  advantage  they  had  de- 
rived from  the  work  done  and  the  experience  gained  by  those 
who  had  initiated  the  enterprise,  but  failed  to  carry  it  to  com- 
pletion. Indeed,  their  testimony  went  at  times  further  than 
was  justified  by  the  facts,  as  I saw  them.  Not  only  did  they 
warmly  commend  the  French  engineering,  but  they  admitted 
that  much  of  the  French  material,  and  some  of  the  French 
machinery,  was  more  durable  and,  considering  its  date,  better 
than  what  now  came  to  them  from  the  United  States.  The 
French  mechanical  appliances  were  also  pronounced  most 
valuable.  Of  De  Lesseps  they  spoke  with  uniform  respect; 
even  going  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  French  hospital  organiza- 
tion and  efforts  at  sanitation  had  contributed  very  materially 
to  the  remarkable  results  since  attained. 

Listening  sympathetically,  and  appreciating  to  the  fullest 
extent  the  fineness  of  feeling  which  inspired  these  utterances, 
I yet  found  myself  unable  in  some  respects  to  accept  them  at 
face  value.  There  was,  on  the  contrary,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
evidence  everywhere  that  the  French  had  involved  them- 
selves in  the  enterprise,  and,  when  in  it,  gone  about  their  work 
in  a way  most  ill-considered  and  wasteful.  With  precon- 
ceived ideas  altogether  wrong,  they  provoked  set-backs  and 
invited  ultimate  failure.  The  material  they  bought  and  used 
may  have  been  of  the  best  quality;  their  engineering  was 
probably,  as  our  engineers  admit,  of  the  most  approved  sort; 
some  of  their  machinery  and  more  or  fewer  of  their  appliances 
may  still  be  in  use;  none  the  less  the  fact  stands  forth  plain 
even  to  the  layman  that,  taken  altogether,  De  Lesseps  was 
peculiarly  ill-fitted  to  carry  to  a successful  close  what  he  so 
confidently  undertook.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end  he  was 
obsessed.  He  had,  so  to  speak,  Suez  Canal  on  the  brain.  Yet 
it  may  broadly  be  asserted  that  there  was  not  a single  lesson 
derived  from  the  Suez  experience  applicable  to  Panama  condi- 
tions. This  sweeping  generalization,  moreover,  held  true  at 


v 


18 


every  point,  — from  the  sea-level  structure  to  rainfall,  from 
the  sandy  soil  on  the  Red  Sea  to  the  rocky,  mountainous  range 
above  the  Chagres  River.  In  their  essential  features  — politi- 
cal, geological,  racial,  industrial  or  sanitary  — the  two  prob- 
lems were  unlike;  and  every  lesson  of  experience  drawn  from 
the  one  was  well  calculated  to  lead  to  disaster  if  applied  to  the* 
other.  Yet  De  Lesseps  invariably  applied  them  all.  As  re- 
spects labor  and  sanitation,  for  instance,  he  apparently  looked 
at  the  problem  from  a French  point  of  view,  — a military 
standpoint,  and  one  quite  the  reverse  of  humanitarian.  The 
work  would  cost  lives  as  well  as  money;  unquestionably  it 
would:  but,  as  Marshal  Pelissier  observed  in  the  Crimea, 
“One  cannot  make  omelettes  without  breaking  eggs.”  The 
Suez  Canal  had  been  carried  to  completion  by  Egyptian  forced 
labor,  regardless  of  human  sacrifice;  just  as  it  is  still  asserted, 
though  with  most  absurd  exaggeration,  that  every  tie  on  the 
Panama  railroad  represented  the  life  of  a man  employed  in  its 
construction.  It  would  probably  approach  more  closely  to 
historic  truth  to  say  that  every  hundred  ties  was  in  this  case 
the  unit  of  representation;  even  that,  however,  would  mount 
up  to  a very  respectable  holocaust.  But,  after  all,  the  greatest 
possible  death  rate  involved  in  the  digging  of  a sea-level  canal 
would  be  small  in  comparison  with  that  always  and  necessarily 
incurred  in  the  conduct  of  a war  of  even  the  second  or  third 
class.  In  view  of  the  result  to  be  secured,  the  loss  of  life  was 
from  the  De  Lesseps  and  Suez  point  of  view  a somewhat  sen- 
timental consideration,  and  one  altogether  negligible. 

Passing  over  other  factors  in  the  situation,  — financial, 
material,  industrial,  in  regard  to  all  of  which  the  methods  of 
the  French  seem  to  have  been  open  to  obvious  criticism,  — 
passing  over  all  these,  it  was  their  sanitary  and  hospital  ar- 
rangements which  interested  me  most.  Colonel  Gorgas  spoke 
of  them  with  apparent  respect;  the  French  work  had,  he  said, 
been  carried  on  before  the  mosquito  theory  and  observations 
had  led  to  their  results,  and  we  had  profited  largely  by  the 
French  experience.  This  was  doubtless  true;  but,  none  the  less, 
the  stories  still  told  of  that  experience,  while  extremely  pathetic, 
were  undeniably  grewsome,  — in  fact,  I may  say,  ghastly.  It 
appears  to  have  been  nothing  less  than  a travesty  on  nursing 
leading  to  a dance  of  death.  At  Ancon,  just  outside  of  Panama, 


19 


they  still  point  out  a building  in  the  American  hospital  grounds 
in  which  it  is  asserted  five  thousand  patients  died.  French 
clinical  attendance,  as  it  is  called,  has  never  been  good;  it  is 
not  good  to-day  even  in  Paris,  and  much  less  so  in  the  Prov- 
inces. In  no  respect  is  it  up  to  our  American  standards.  It 
is  suggestive  of  the  Sairey  Gamp  and  Betsey  Prigg  period  and 
methods.  In  the  hands  of  so-called  Sisters  of 'Charity,  the  rules 
by  them  observed  at  Ancon  were,  to  say  the  least,  peculiar; 
and  over  the  gates  of  that  Ancon  hospital,  I was  assured  by 
those  whose  testimony  might  not  be  disputed,  could  properly 
have  been  inscribed  Dante’s  familiar  Lasciate  ogni  speranza 
voi  cK  entrate.  Friends  or  acquaintances  of  those  taken  ill 
dreaded  to  obtain  a hospital  permit;  it  was  looked  upon  as  a 
graveyard  billet. 

As  then  conducted,  a dollar  a day  was  paid  the  Sisters  by  the 
French  Company  for  each  patient  admitted  to  the  hospital. 
The  practice  with  the  Sisterhood  was  to  attend  the  sick  during 
c6rtain  prescribed  hours,  leaving  the  wards  at  night.  In  the 
morning  duty  was  resumed;  the  corpses  of  those  who  had  died 
during  the  night  were  removed,  and  the  places  thus  made 
vacant  were  filled  by  others  newly  admitted.  During  the  night 
absences  of  the  Sisters,  the  only  care  the  patients  received  was 
from  convalescents,  not  yet  discharged.  At  that  time  it  was 
the  usual  practice  for  those  journeying  to  and  fro  across  the 
Isthmus  to  carry  with  them  more  or  less  gold;  and,  in  the  case 
of  such  as  died,  this  gold  was  a perquisite  of  the  convalescent 
attendants.  They  divided  it  among  themselves.  It  was  the 
dead  man’s  parting  “tip.” 

Nor  was  this  all;  ignorance  then  came  with  its  contribution, 
disguised  in  most  deadly  fashion  under  the  mask  of  neatness 
and  beauty.  The  following  is  from  a chapter  in  a recently  pub- 
lished book  on  the  Canal: 

In  the  state  of  ignorance  that  prevailed  as  to  the  sources  of  yel- 
low and  malaria  fever,  the  hospitals  soon  became  known  as  foci  of 
the  former  disease,  as  we  can  easily  understand  now,  when  we  know 
that  their  verandahs  and  wards  were  filled  with  large  plants  in  pots 
that  stood  in  earthen  basins  filled  with  water.  The  French  culti- 
vated flowers  extensively  about  their  dwellings  and  buildings,  and 
each  flower  pot  afforded  an  ideal  breeding-place  for  mosquitoes, 
that  conveyed  the  yellow  fever  and  malaria  germs.1 

1 Forbes-Lindsay,  Panama  and  the  Canal  To-day , 69-70. 


20 


In  other  words,  acting  in  perfect  good  faith  and  according 
to  their  lights,  the  French  medical  staff  unwittingly  established 
a well-designed  and  arranged  breeding-school  of  the  deadly 
stegomyia,  they  being  systematically  propagated,  and  regu- 
larly supplied  with  non-immune  subjects  on  which  to  feed. 
The  only  cause  for  present  surprise  is  that  under  such  condi- 
tions the  yellow  fever  in  that  climate  and  locality  did  not  be- 
come epidemic  as  well  as  endemic,  and  that  any  even  tempo- 
rary sojourner  on  the  Isthmus  should  have  escaped  it.  To  me, 
a confessed  layman,  it  seems  as  if  the  natural  laws  regulating 
both  the  propagation  and  dissemination  of  the  mosquito  are 
not  yet  fully  understood;  but,  in  the  still  recent  days  of  the  De 
Lesseps  dispensation,  the  death-dealing  insect  was  looked  upon 
as  a torment  but  a harmless  one,  and  the  phantom  of  miasma 
was  at  all  times  invoked  as  a final,  if  not  sufficient,  explanation 
of  the  injuries  he  inflicted. 

Almost  a century  before,  the  French  under  the  lead  of.  a 
greater  than  De  Lesseps  had  ventured  on  another  great  West 
Indian  enterprise.  In  1801  Napoleon,  he  also  fresh  from 
Egypt  and  Suez,  had  sent  to  Hayti  an  army  some  twenty-five 
thousand  strong,  commanded  by  his  brother-in-law,  General 
Leclerc,  the  husband  of  his  sister  Pauline.  Of  that  large  force 
it  is  said  not  one  man  in  three  ever  saw  France  again.  For, 
more  to  be  feared  than  the  liberated  African  resisting  a return 
to  bondage,  the  then  wholly  unsuspected  stegomyia  put  in  his 
deadly  work.1  Leclerc  himself  fell  a victim,  and  of  the  twenty- 
five  thousand  sent  out  to  Santo  Domingo  under  his  command 
in  1801,  only  four  thousand  were  fit  for  duty  in  1802.  Napoleon 
never  liked  to  waste  time  or  thought  upon  his  failures.  They 
were,  in  so  far  as  possible,  by  him  treated  strictly  as  alms  for 
oblivion.  The  investigator  now,  consequently,  searches  in  vain 
for  statistical  reports  of  the  experiences  of  the  French  in  Santo 
Domingo,  and  the  number  of  deaths  to  be  there  attributed  to 
yellow  fever.  In  Metral’s  Histoire  de  V Expedition  des  Fran- 
qais , d Saint  Domingue , the  whole  of  the  third  book  (pp.  105- 
164)  is,  for  instance,  devoted  to  a somewhat  lurid  account  of 
the  ravages  of  the  disease,  the  narrative  concluding  with  the 
death  of  Leclerc.  The  terror  inspired  by  the  fever,  and  the 
havoc  it  worked,  are  there  dwelt  upon  with  the  habitual  French 
1 The  Panama  Canal,  Inst,  of  Mining  Engineers , November,  1910,  50. 


21 


excesses  of  rhetoric;  but  from  it  no  exact  figures  are  forth- 
coming. It  is,  however,  not  unsafe  to  draw  the  conclusion 
that,  taking  into  proportional  account  the  size  of  the  two 
expeditions  — 40,000  in  the  first  case,  including  the  naval 
contingent,  and  500,000  in  the  last  — the  mosquitoes  of  Hayti 
were  more  destructive  to  the  Napoleonic  venture  of  1801  in 
West  Indian  waters  than  the  frosts  of  Russia  were  to  the 
memorable  and  colossal  tragedy  of  1812.  There  is  no  apparent 
reason  why  the  experience  in  Hayti  in  1801  should  not  have 
been  repeated  at  Darien  in  1901.  No  less  subject  to  the  infec- 
tion, the  French  under  the  guidance  of  De  Lesseps  were  as 
much  in  the  dark  as  to  either  the  origin  or  the  prevention  of 
the  scourge  as  were  those  a century  before  under  the  command 
of  Leclerc. 

But  I propose  in  this  connection  to  confine  myself  strictly 
to  a statement  of  what  I saw,  and  to  inferences  naturally  to 
be  drawn  from  it  by  any  observing  layman  not  wholly  devoid 
of  experience  gained  elsewhere.  Such  an  experience,  as  I have 
already  said,  had  been  mine  in  Africa  five  years  ago.  I was 
there  also  at  the  same  time  of  year,  in  March,  and  at  the 
same  latitude,  io°  North.  The  English  had  then  been  for 
twenty  years  in  control  in  Egypt,  and  for  several  years  in  con- 
trol in  Uganda.  They  had  established  their  hospitals;  the  work 
of  sanitation,  as  they  understood  it,  was  steadily  going  on.  Yet 
the  house-fly  was  accepted  as  an  unescapable  nuisance.  He 
swarmed,  ubiquitous.  No  apparent  prevention  was  thought 
of.  A strong  north  wind  only  brought  relief  from  him.  With 
those  I accompanied,  I was  recently  at  the  Hotel  Tivoli,  Pan- 
ama, for  ten  consecutive  days.  During  that  time  we  took  our 
meals  in  a public  dining-room  capable  of  accommodating  three 
hundred  guests  at  a sitting.  The  attendants  were  all  African; 
just  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to  find  in  Washington,  or  at 
the  hotels  of  every  southern  winter  resort.  I kept  a careful 
reckoning,  and  during  those  ten  days  I saw  on  the  dining-room 
table  around  which  our  party  sat,  exactly  three  house-flies; 
and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  I found  them  abundantly  in  evi- 
dence, though  not  at  all  to  the  Egyptian  degree,  in  the  fruit 
stalls  in  the  public  market-place  not  a mile  away.  It  was  cer- 
tainly not  the  off  season  for  flies  there. 

In  one  of  the  extremely  interesting  occasional  papers  of 


22 


Colonel  Gorgas  on  the  canal,  he  refers  to  the  “ heroism”  ex- 
hibited by  the  French  employes  in  coming  to  Panama. 
Every  Frenchman,  he  says,  who  came  to  Panama  knew  that 
he  was  going  to  have  yellow  fever,  and  he  also  knew  that  every 
second  man  would  die  with  it.  “To  face  such  chances  took 
no  little  courage.”  Elsewhere  he  gives  some  examples  — cases 
in  point.  “The  family  of  one  of  the  chief  engineers  consisted 
of  five;  four  died  of  yellow  fever.  . . . The  family  of  the 
superintendent  of  the  railroad  consisted  of  five;  three  of  these 
died  of  yellow  fever.  A party  of  seventeen  engineers  came 
on  one  steamer;  sixteen  of  these  died  of  yellow  fever.  Twenty- 
five  Sisters  of  Charity  came  to  Ancon  Hospital  at  one  time; 
twenty  of  these  died  of  yellow  fever.  ...  I think  it  quite 
reasonable  to  say  that  one- third  of  the  Frenchmen  who  came 
to  the  Isthmus  during  the  French  construction  died  of  this 
disease.”  The  testimony  of  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mallet,  forti- 
fied by  piteous  cases  of  bereavement  within  their  personal  ex- 
periences, was  to  precisely  the  same  effect.  Colonel  Gorgas  says 
that  for  these  people,  under  such  conditions,  to  come  to  the 
Isthmus  “took  no  little  courage.”  To  one  at  all  acquainted 
with  French  industrial  conditions  the  going  to  Panama  of 
these  victims  in  advance  would  probably  be  attributed  to 
another  motive,  — the  res  angusta  domi.  In  France  the  ave- 
nues to  bread-earning  occupations  or  employment  are  choked. 
To  earn  a living,  especially  with  the  slightly  superannuated, 
almost  any  risk  will  be  incurred.  The  Canal  afforded  at  least 
a chance;  the  rest  followed.  Thus  the  Ancon  graveyard  is 
suggestive  of  many  domestic  tragedies,  not  the  less  pathetic 
because  not  otherwise  of  record. 

Very  different  conditions  in  this  respect  now  prevail  in  the 
Zone.  Of  those  there  in  steady  employment,  though  in  sub- 
ordinate capacities,  more  than  the  ordinary  proportion  are 
somewhat  superannuated,  and  others  have  manifestly  sought 
refuge  from  a too  rigorous  climatic  condition  — bronchial 
exiles,  or  those  threatened  by  tuberculosis.  For  such,  the  region 
of  the  Chagres  is  now  a health  resort;  but,  computed  on  the 
basis  of  the  French  mortality,  Colonel  Gorgas  estimates  that 
the  American  loss  by  fever  during  the  first  five  years  of  our 
work  in  the  Zone  should  have  been  over  eight  thousand;  it 
actually  was  just  nineteen.  And  to-day  the  American  skilled 


23 


workman  goes  to  the  Isthmus  with  wife  and  children  for  the 
first  time,  or  having  been  there  returns  to  his  work  and  his 
family,  giving  no  more  thought  to  the  fever,  whether  yellow  or 
Chagres,  than  we  here  in  Massachusetts  give  to  the  small-pox, 
— not  nearly  so  much  as  we  give  to  bronchial  affections  or  our 
annual  epidemic  of  measles.  Assuredly  the  world  has  seen 
nothing  like  it  before;  and,  standing  face  to  face  with  it,  is  not 
the  American  justified  in  a certain  access  of  race-pride? 

This  is  not  the  place  nor  am  I the  person  to  enter  into  the 
story  of  the  gradual  development  of  the  mosquito  theory,  and 
its  full  demonstration.  First  advanced  as  a plausible  sugges- 
tion, as  I understand  it,  in  1881,  not  until  1901  was  it  at  last 
accepted  as  proven.  The  question  now  is  as  to  its  further  de- 
velopment, and  the  new  fields  into  which  it  will  lead  the  inves- 
tigator and  sanitarian. 

And  yet  there  was  one  aspect  of  the  subject  which  in  my 
talk  with  Colonel  Gorgas  moved  my  sense  of  humor,  though 
in  a way  slightly  cynical.  It  moved  it  also  to  such  an  extent 
that  I had  difficulty  in  preserving  a proper  degree  of  acquiescent 
respect  for  his  presentation  of  the  matter.  Colonel  Gorgas  was 
obviously  greatly  concerned  over  the  cost  of  a more  perfect 
sanitation  and  the  necessity  of  unremitting  vigilance  with  end- 
less precautions,  all  of  which  involved  an  outlay  at  best  never 
less,  and  probably  always  tending  to  increase.  To  this  I simply 
listened;  for  I did  not  care  to  enter  into  a discussion  of  that 
other  aspect  of  the  case  which  at  once  suggested  itself.  During 
my  stay  on  the  Isthmus  I had  heard  more  or  less  discussion  of 
the  armament  proposition.  Should  the  Canal  be  fortified  by 
us,  and  the  Zone  properly  garrisoned?  With  the  Great  Lakes 
and  Suez  precedents  in  mind,  observing  also  the  obvious  world 
tendency  to  neutralization,  such  a policy  on  our  part  seemed 
to  me  personally  a distinctly  backward  step.  By  taking  it, 
America  would  be  throwing  away  a great  opportunity  to  stim- 
ulate by  example  a movement  of  world-advance  at  once  obvious 
and  impending.  The  drift  of  feeling,  and  consequently  of 
opinion,  was,  however,  even  on  the  Isthmus,  plainly  the  other 
way.  Patriotism  is  invoked,  and  the  sense  of  proprietorship 
makes  itself  felt.  We  built  it;  it  will  be  ours;  and  we  will  not 
deserve  to  own  it,  or  to  continue  to  enjoy  it,  if  we  are  not  pre- 
pared to  hold  and  defend  it,  if  need  be  against  a world  in  arms ! 


24 


Are  we  not  the  greatest  and  richest  nation  on  earth?  — and  so 
forth  and  so  on,  ad  infinitum  and  ad  nauseam.  A most  familiar 
line  of  appeal  and  argument,  it  is  also  one  against  which  it 
is  useless  to  contend,  save  by  a silent  recourse  to  time.1  That 
Colonel  Goethals  strongly  sympathized  in  it  I was  sure;  for 
not  only  is  he  a professional  soldier,  but  the  evening  before  I 
listened  to  the  plaint  of  Colonel  Gorgas  I heard  Colonel  Goethals, 
at  the  Hotel  Tivoli,  address  the  assembled  representatives  of 
the  Society  of  American  Engineers,  and  the  one  passage  which 
had  called  forth  the  warmest  and  the  most  immediate  expres- 
sion of  approval  was  that  in  which  he  lent  his  great  authority 
to  the  armament  proposal.  So  far  as  I could  judge,  sanitation 
and  engineering  were,  in  the  thoughts  of  those  present,  con- 
siderations of  quite  secondary  importance.  I was  also  under 
the  impression  that  Colonel  Gorgas  was  similarly  minded;  I 
have  uniformly  found  that  all  army  circles  instinctively  so 
incline.  I,  therefore,  did  not  care  to  provoke  a useless  dis- 
cussion. None  the  less  a comparison  did  not  fail  to  suggest 
itself.  Colonel  Gorgas  was  gravely  considering  the  unavoid- 
able necessity  of  a continuing  sanitation  with  the  consequent 
expense  thereby  entailed.  The  price  came  high.  Could  those 
who  had  to  provide  the  amount  be  counted  on  always  to  re- 
spond? The  problem  is  serious;  the  outcome  questionable. 
Fortification  was  a necessity;  sanitation,  a luxury.  So  be  it! 

1 “With  her  great  navy  and  immense  standing  army  Japan  could  attack  our 
Pacific  coast  to-day  and  we  should  be  helpless  to  resist  her.  ...  It  may  be  hard 
for  the  average  American  to  appreciate  the  military  weakness  of  his  country  at 
the  present  time,  especially  on  the  Pacific  coast,  and  to  understand  in  what  an 
appalling  situation  the  United  States  would  be  should  the  Panama  Canal,  being 
unfortified,  suddenly  be  seized  by  Japan,  a nation  which  has  twice  within  the 
last  fifteen  years  begun  war  without  a declaration  of  war  and  by  treacherous 
attacks.  ...  It  is  difficult  to  speak  calmly  of  the  thick-headed,  thin-blooded 
theory  that  would,  in  the  face  of  these  facts,  persuade  us  to  leave  our  coasts 
unprotected  by  using  our  navy  to  guard  an  unfortified  canal.  . . . With  the 
great  armed  powers  approaching  a struggle  for  supremacy  in  Asia,  and  with  a 
part  of  Asia  already  in  arms  and  thirsting  for  conquest,  it  would  seem  as  though 
none  but  a fool  or  a traitor  could  fail  to  see  that  to  refuse  to  fortify  the  Panama 
Canal  is  to  invite  war  and  to  make  our  destruction  easy.” 

The  foregoing  extracts  from  a paper  entitled  “The  Madness  of  an  Unfortified 
Canal,”  by  Mr.  James  Creelman,  in  the  issue  of  a popular  periodical  ( The  Cos- 
mopolitan) for  the  current  month  (May,  1911),  may  be  not  without  historical 
interest.  In  a period  of  future  development,  probably  not  now  remote,  they 
will  at  least  serve  to  illustrate  the  temper  and  discretion  with  which  the  discussion 
referred  to  in  the  text  is  now  approached. 


25 


Yet  even  when  looked  at  in  this  way,  and  conceding  each 
proposition,  there  was,  it  seemed  to  me,  something  to  be  said 
in  a comparative  way  in  behalf  of  sanitation.  In  the  first  place 
it  was  an  incident,  but  still  a necessary  one,  to  any  really  suc- 
cessful system  of  armament.  That  I had  seen  emphasized  at 
Camp  Elliott.  The  health  of  the  garrison,  and  consequently  the 
efficiency  of  the  armaments,  were  involved.  Sanitation  was  not 
therefore  a matter  of  pure  luxury.  But  even  allowing  that  it 
was;  as  a luxury,  is  it  not,  comparatively  speaking,  one  which 
may  justifiably  be  indulged  in?  It  is  admitted  — or,  if  not  ad- 
mitted, probable  in  the  light  of  all  experience  — that  a rea- 
sonable armament  for  the  Zone,  with  a force  sufficient  properly 
to  garrison  the  same,  will  entail  an  average  annual  expenditure 
of  $15,000,000;  on  the  other  hand,  the  most  perfect  sanitation 
could  be  provided  for  $7 50,000,  or  five  per  cent  of  that  amount. 
Was  an  expenditure  of  five  dollars  for  luxury  unreasonable  on 
the  part  of  a man,  or  a nation,  which  is  spending  one  hundred 
dollars  for  necessities?  The  comparison  is  suggestive;  but,  as 
it  presented  itself  to  me  in  my  interview  with  Colonel  Gorgas, 
I could  not  but  recall  Prince  Hal’s  wondering  exclamation  on 
a familiar  occasion,  — “Oh,  monstrous!  but  one  half-penny- 
worth of  bread,  to  this  intolerable  deal  of  sack!” 

One  thing,  and  that  the  essential  thing,  is  clear;  the  cost  of 
sanitation  is  not  prohibitive.  On  the  contrary,  as  compared 
with  that  of  armament,  it  is  trivial.  In  these  days,  here  and 
abroad,  both  men  and  journals  liken,  as  continually  as 
wearisomely,  the  war-budget  to  an  insurance  premium  paid 
to  avert  actual  war,  — the  way  to  avoid  war,  it  is  claimed, 
is  to  be  prepared  for  it.  Without  wishing  to  appear  learned, 
the  insurance  argument  may,  I believe,  be  traced  back  to 
classic  times,  and  the  Qui  desiderat  pacem , prceparet  helium. 
More  recently  even  Napoleon  insisted,  and  perhaps  himself 
believed,  that  his  everlasting  preparation  and  consequent  per- 
petual wars  were  but  preliminary  to  a solid  and  enduring  peace. 
But,  conceding  the  force  of  the  argument,  does  not  the  insur- 
ance-premium figure  of  speech  apply  quite  as  forcibly  to  pes- 
tilence as  to  war?  For  instance,  while  preparing  this  paper  I 
notice  that  in  a recent  official  report  Dr.  L.  O.  Howard,  the 
head  of  our  Bureau  of  Entomology,  estimates  that  malaria 
alone  costs  the  United  States  one  hundred  millions  annually, 


s 


26 


and  the  insect  diseases  generally  twice  that  sum.  It  will 
probably  be  conceded  that,  except  in  connection  with  the  war- 
budget,  such  amounts  are  worth  saving.  In  the  present 
case,  moreover,  the  insurance  premium  against  pestilence, 
besides  immunity  under  existing  conditions,  further  implies 
the  opening  of  vast  regions  to  development  by  healthy  genera- 
tions of  human  beings.  Looked  at  from  this  point  of  view,  it 
is  at  least  suggestive  that  to-day  the  entire  cost  of  a complete 
sanitation  of  our  Canal  Zone,  — heretofore  the  most  pestilential 
region  on  earth,  and,  in  that  respect,  incomparably  worse  than 
the  proverbial  Roman  Campagna,  — to  completely  sanitize 
this  region  and  convert  it  into  a practical  winter  health-resort 
may  involve  a yearly  expenditure  equal  to  one  half  only  of  the 
cost  of  maintenance  of  a single  battle-ship,  and,  possibly,  a 
sixth  part  of  one  per  cent  of  the  regular  annual  war-budget  of 
the  United  States  alone,  if  we  include  in  that  budget  the  cost 
entailed  on  us  by  wars  the  last  and  least  of  which  occurred  ten 
years  ago. 

Moreover,  sanitation  is,  it  must  be  remembered,  as  yet  but  in 
its  infancy.  In  its  present  stage  of  development  it  is  little  more 
than  a crude,  somewhat  clumsy  demonstration;  though  as  such, 
complete.  Every  method  and  every  appliance  are  yet  to  be  per- 
fected. To  illustrate  by  example:  — sanitation  is  at  this  time 
where  steam,  as  a source  of  power,  was  eighty  years  ago, — where 
electricity  and  anaesthetics  were  in  the  early  memory  of  those 
not  yet  old.  Looked  at  in  this  way,  when  some  measurement  of 
the  possibilities  of  the  future  is  attempted,  the  imagination,  as  I 
have  already  said,  staggers;  at  least,  when  at  Panama,  mine  did. 

But,  a layman  at  best,  I feel  I am  now  venturing  on  some- 
what dangerous  ground,  — the  domain  of  prophecy.  For,  on 
the  other  side,  tradition  holds;  nor,  it  must  at  once  be  con- 
ceded, is  the  case  yet  fully  proved,  and  time  alone  — sixty 
years  at  shortest  — can  effect  a complete  demonstration.  It 
is  argued,  and  plausibly  argued,  that,  so  far  as  human  life 
in  the  tropics  is  concerned,  and  continuance  of  energy  there 
through  successive  generations  as  well  as  its  extension  to  both 
sexes  and  all  ages,  the  problem  is  to-day  much  where  it  was 
heretofore.  It  is  merely  proven  that  the  adult  male  can,  by 
following  a prescribed  mode  of  life  and  observing  strict  precau- 
tionary rules,  live,  and  do  a man’s  work,  where  he  could  not 


27 


live  safely  or  work  effectively  before.  Existence  in  a high, 
steady  and  monotonous  temperature,  without  impairment  of 
vitality,  is  still,  to  say  the  least,  questionable  as  a possibility. 
Men  may  perhaps  stand  the  test;  can  women  and  children, 
much  more  successive  generations  of  women  and  children?  In 
other  words,  was  insect  poison  from  time  immemorial  the  root 
of  all  tropical  evils  so  far  as  the  human  race  was  concerned, 
and  to  what  extent  do  miasmas,  temperature  and  climatic  con- 
ditions generally  still  remain  to  be  reckoned  with?  Moreover, 
does  the  presence  of  the  mosquito,  that  cobra  of  the  air  — and 
here  the  thought  suggested  becomes  even  more  startling  — 
explain  such  enigmas  as  Greek  deterioration  and  the  decline 
and  fall  of  Rome’s  empire?  Was  it  an  imported,  and  then 
domesticated  insect,  which  after  all  avenged  a conquered 
world?  But,  then  again,  why  not?  The  tsetse-fly  is  to-day 
depopulating  eastern  Africa. 

Suggesting  the  problem,  I withdraw  from  its  discussion. 
Confessedly  a layman,  I make  no  pretence  at  the  prophet’s 
role.  So,  stating  the  next  and  most  startling  proposition  of  all 
on  the  authority  of  Colonel  Gorgas,  I shall  there  leave  it.  In 
the  reports  put  by  him  in  my  hands  while  at  Ancon  I find  him 
on  record  to  the  following  effect: 

But  I do  not  believe  that  posterity  will  consider  the  commercial 
and  physical  success  of  the  Canal  the  greatest  good  it  has  conferred 
upon  mankind.  I hope  that  as  time  passes  our  descendants  will 
see  that  the  greatest  good  the  construction  of  the  Canal  has  brought 
was  the  opportunity  it  gave  for  demonstrating  that  the  white  man 
could  live  and  work  in  the  tropics,  and  maintain  his  health  at  as 
high  a point  as  he  can,  doing  the  same  work,  in  the  temperate  zone. 
That  this  has  been  demonstrated  none  can  justly  gainsay.  . . . 

I therefore  expect  in  the  course  of  years  to  see  a very  large  and 
wealthy  population  grow  up  at  the  Isthmus  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Canal.  In  other  words,  I expect  this  Panama  Canal  to  turn  out 
to  be  one  of  the  greatest  commercial  successes  that  man  ever  brought 
about.  . . . 

• The  figures  (here  submitted)  prove  that  in  the  case  of  the  unac- 
climated foreigner,  women  and  children,  as  well  as  men,  health 
conditions  have  been  so  changed  at  Panama  that  one  can  live  about 
as  well  here  as  in  the  healthy  parts  of  the  United  States.  That  in 
the  case  of  the  native  and  negro,  who  make  up  the  bulk  of  the  total 
population,  his  sanitary  surroundings  have  been  so  changed  that  he 


28 


now  enjoys  at  Panama  about  the  same  degree  of  health  as  the  ordi- 
nary inhabitant  of  the  United  States.  If  this  can  be  accomplished  at 
Panama,  the  same  may  be  accomplished  anywhere  else  in  the 
tropics.  . . . 

We  therefore  believe  sanitary  work  on  the  Isthmus  will  demon- 
strate to  the  world  that  the  white  man  can  live  and  work  in  any 
part  of  the  tropics  and  maintain  good  health,  and  that  the  settling 
of  the  tropics  by  the  Caucasian  will  date  from  the  completion  of  the 
Panama  Canal. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  in  these  extracts  Colonel  Gorgas  is 
speaking  not  of  acute  and  malignant  diseases,  such  as  the  yel- 
low or  the  Chagres  fevers,  but  of  the  incapacity  caused  by 
malaria,  so-called,  generally;  a manifestation  not  at  all  con- 
fined to  the  tropics,  but,  in  this  country,  familiar  to  those 
dwelling  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boston,  as  well  as  of  Rome, 
of  Philadelphia  or  of  New  York.  This  “ incapacity”  Colonel 
Gorgas  asserts  is  an  indication  of  an  underlying  evil  to  which 
must  be  attributed  more  fatalities  than  are  due  “ to  all  other 
diseases  combined.”  “Yellow  fever,”  he  says,  “has  a great 
effect  on  the  death  rate  of  a non-immune  population,  but  it  is 
not  a noticeable  cause  of  debility.  On  the  other  hand,  malaria 
is  a disease  which  may  affect  the  individual  for  years ; and,  in  a 
locality  like  Panama,  is  responsible  for  a widespread  condition 
of  debility  throughout  the  population.” 

The  yellow  fever  Colonel  Gorgas  dismisses  almost  with  words 
of  contempt,  relegating  it  to  an  historic  past: 

It  seems  to  me  that  yellow  fever  will  entirely  disappear  within 
this  generation,  and  that  the  next  generation  will  look  on  yellow 
fever  as  an  extinct  disease  having  only  an  historic  interest.  They 
will  look  on  the  yellow  fever  parasites  as  we  do  on  the  three-toed 
horse  — as  an  animal  that  existed  in  the  past,  without  any  possi- 
bility of  reappearing  on  the  earth  at  any  future  time. 

Finally  Colonel  Gorgas  closes  with  this  inspiriting  trumpet- 
note,  at  once  a challenge  and  a prophecy;  in  it  he  fairly  throws 
down  the  gauntlet: 

I dare  to  predict  that  after  the  lapse  of  a period,  let  us  say,  equal 
to  that  which  now  separates  the  year  1909  from  the  Norman  con- 
quest of  England,  localities  in  the  tropics  will  be  the  centers  of  as 
powerful  and  as  cultured  a white  civilization  as  any  that  will  then 
exist  in  temperate  zones. 


29 


This  paper  has  already  extended  far  beyond  the  limits  origi- 
nally proposed  for  it;  and,  purposely,  I have  in  it  said  nothing 
of  many  of  the  subjects  most  discussed  in  connection  with  the 
Canal,  — for  example,  the  much  mooted  question  of  a sea- 
level  or  a lock  construction.  On  this  point,  one  of  opinion 
purely,  I see  no  reason  why  I should  commit  myself,  or  waste 
time  and  spoil  paper  over  it.  I have  my  own  opinion  on  it, 
and  a decided  one;  visiting  the  work,  it  could  not  well  be  other- 
wise. But,  not  being  an  expert  on  canal  construction  and  at 
best  a mere  casual  visitor  of  the  Zone,  that  opinion  could,  if 
expressed,  carry  no  weight,  and  would  be  undeserving  of  con- 
sideration. But  there  is  another  aspect  of  the  subject  more 
appropriate  to  this  place,  and  to  me  of  greater  interest;  and 
I cannot  close  this  paper  without  reverting  to  the  purely  his- 
torical side  of  my  experience,  already  more  than  alluded  to.  I 
refer,  of  course,  to  Old  Panama,  so  called  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  present  city  of  that  name,  — the  Panama  of  Pizarro, 
of  Drake,  and  of  Morgan.  I have  said  that,  greatly  interested 
in  it,  its  location  and  remains,  in  company  with  my  artist 
friend,  F.  D.  Millet,  I visited  the  site  of  the  original  Panama 
twice,  and  made  of  it  as  complete  an  examination  as  was  prac- 
ticable under  tropical  conditions  and  in  so  brief  a time.  I have 
also  said  that,  as  a result  of  an  examination,  the  place,  while 
vastly  interesting  and  historically  suggestive,  impressed  both 
my  companion  and  myself  as  being  somewhat  of  a myth. 
There  hangs  about  it  an  atmosphere  of  exaggeration  curi- 
ously suggestive  of  Herodotus  and  early  Greece.  For  myself, 
I freely  confess  that,  having  visited  both  localities,  I no  more 
believe  in  the  tradition  of  Old  Panama,  its  size,  its  population, 
its  commerce  and  its  wealth,  than  I believe  in  the  accepted 
traditions  of  the  battle  of  Marathon.  In  each  case'  I am 
persuaded  it  is  in  large  part  an  historical  fake.  As  respects 
Marathon  I am,  in  the  Proceedings  of  this  Society,1  already  on 
record ; as  respects  Old  Panama,  I propose  now  to  put  myself  on 
record.  Turning  back  to  the  fountain  head,  Hakluyt  was,  I find, 
to  Old  Panama  much  what  Herodotus  was  to  Marathon.  What 
he  records,  the  modern  investigator  implicitly  accepts  and 
then  proceeds  to  elaborate.  For  instance,  in  the  recent  work 
of  Mr.  Forbes-Lindsay,  from  which  I have  already  quoted,  is 
the  following  somewhat  highly  wrought  description: 

1 2 Proceedings,  xvn.  252. 


30 


The  ruins  of  Panama  Viejo  are  overgrown  with  dense  vegetation  ^ 

and  a considerable  portion  of  them  has  not  been  seen  by  the  eye  of 
man  in  two  hundred  years.  Enough  is,  however,  accessible  to  make 
the  place  unusually  interesting,  and  to  attest  to  the  substantial 
manner  in  which  the  Spaniards  of  old  erected  their  buildings.  The 
tower  of  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Anastasius  rises  above  the  tangle  of 
tropical  jungle  and  affords  a prominent  landmark.  In  the  days  of 
Panama’s  prosperity  and  pride,  this  was  the  focal  point  of  the  city, 
for  the  Church  was  more  powerful  than  the  temporal  authority.  A 
fine  old  stone  bridge,  in  a good  state  of  preservation,  is  a pictur- 
esque reminder  of  the  period  when  the  “Gate  to  the  Universe” 
stood  on  this  spot.  There  are  remains  of  fortifications  and  dungeons; 
and  the  famous  “paved  way,”  which  was,  in  reality,  no  more  than 
a road  of  cobble-stones,  may  be  seen  where  the  forest  is  not  too 
dense  to  penetrate. 

So  far  all  is  not  unfairly  set  down  and  in  reasonable  accord 
with  ascertainable  facts;  but  the  imagination  next  assumes 
control : 

In  its  palmy  days  Old  Panama  was  the  seat  of  wealth  and  splendor 
such  as  could  be  found  nowhere  else  in  the  world  than  the  capitals 
of  the  Orient.  At  the  court  of  the  Governor  gathered  noblemen  and 
ladies  of  gentle  birth.  There  were  upwards  of  seven  thousand 
houses  in  the  place,  many  of  them  being  spacious  and  splendidly 
furnished  mansions.  The  monasteries,  convents  and  other  ecclesi- 
astical edifices  were  numerous,  and  contained  vast  amounts  of 
treasure  in  their  vaults.  There  were  fine  public  buildings  devoted 
to  various  purposes,  among  them  pretentious  stables  in  which  were 
housed  the  “King’s  horses.” 

But,  as  matter  of  fact,  a remark  might  here  not  improperly 
be  interjected  to  the  effect  that  the  horses  in  question  were 
in  reality  mules,  and  the  stables  — Latin-American  shacks ! 

To  much  the  same  effect  Mr.  Hubert  Howe  Bancroft,  or  his 
pro  hac  vice  ready  writer,  grows  poetical  as  he  lovingly  dilates 
on  the  seventeenth  century  metropolis  and  trade-centre: 

Two  or  three  piers  of  a shattered  bridge,  a fragment  of  wall,  a 
single  tower,  and  a few  remnants  of  public  buildings,  half  buried 
under  a dense  growth  of  creepers,  still  mark  the  spot  where,  in  1671, 
stood  a city  with  fine  streets  and  beautiful  edifices,  among  which 
were  stately  churches  richly  adorned  with  altar-pieces  and  rare  paint-  ^ 

ings,  with  golden  censers  and  goblets,  and  tall  candelabra  of  native 
silver.  There  were  the  abodes  of  the  merchant  princes  of  the  New 


31 


World,  some  of  them  the  descendants  of  men  who  had  fought  under 
Cortes  when  he  added  the  empire  of  the  Montezumas  to  the  realm 
of  the  Spanish  crown.  There  were  vast  storehouses  stored  with 
flour,  wine,  oil,  spices,  and  the  merchandize  of  Spain;  there  were 
villas  of  cedar  surrounded  with  beautiful  gardens,  where  fair  women 
enjoyed  the  cool  evening  breeze  as  they  gazed  seaward  on  the  un- 
troubled waters  of  the  Pacific.1  . . . 

There  the  raw  adventurer  who  at  the  opening  of  his  career  pressed 
forward  with  eager  expectation  into  a dark  uncertain  future  met 
the  returned  fortune-seeker  elated  with  success  or  broken-spirited 
through  failure.  Into  the  lap  of  this  great  central  city  poured  un- 
told wealth.  Her  merchants  were  princes;  her  warerooms  were 
filled  with  rich  merchandize  of  every  kind  and  from  every  quarter  of 
the  globe.  There  were  to  be  seen  stacks  of  yellow  and  white  ingots 
from  the  mines  of  Peru,  the  cochineal  and  dye-woods  of  Mexico, 
the  richest  wines  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  the  silks,  velvets  and  laces 
of  France  and  Italy.2 

G.  W.  Thornbury 3 is  equally  imaginative,  but  a trifle  more 
specific : 

The  buildings  were  all  stately,  and  the  streets  broad  and  well- 
arranged.  There  were  within  the  walls  eight  monasteries,  a cathe- 
dral, and  an  hospital,  attended  by  the  religious.  The  churches  and 
monasteries  were  richly  adorned  with  paintings,  and  in  the  subse- 
quent fire  may  have  perished  some  of  the  masterpieces  of  Titian, 
Murillo,  or  Velasquez.  The  gold  plate  and  fittings  of  these  build- 
ings the  priests  had  concealed.  The  number  of  rich  houses  was  com- 
puted at  2000,  and  the  smaller  shops,  etc.,  at  5000  additional.  The 
grandest  buildings  in  the  town  were  the  Genoese  warehouses  con- 
nected with  the  slave  trade;  there  were  also  long  rows  of  stables, 
where  the  horses  and  mules  were  kept  that  were  used  to  convey  the 
royal  plate  from  the  South  to  the  North  Pacific  Ocean.  Before  the 
city,  like  offerings  spread  before  a throne,  lay  rich  plantations  and 
pleasant  gardens. 

Of  course,  the  writer  meant  from  the  South  Pacific  to  the 
North  Atlantic;  but  that  is  a mere  detail.  And  of  such  stuff 
is  what  passes  for  history  made  up ! Padding,  pure  and  simple ! 

Now  for  the  facts,  as  inferred  from  observations  made  in 
person  and  on  the  spot. 

1 History  of  Central  America , 11.  502.  2 lb.  249. 

3 The  Monarchs  of  the  -Main,  11.  158. 


32 


The  report  of  Baptista  Antonio,  made  in  1587,  to  Philip  II, 
King  of  Spain,  is  the  base  on  which  these  historical  figments 
rest.  Antonio’s  report  is  in  Hakluyt’s  principal  narrative;  and, 
in  connection  with  this  paper,  I reprint  such  portions  thereof 
as  relate  immediately  to  Panama.  Matter  of  fact  and  to  the 
point,  they  are  also  quaint  and  refreshing.  Antonio  describes 
the  geographical  situation  exactly  as  it  exists  to-day;  and  the 
ruins  of  the  structures  he  refers  to  can  even  now  be  seen,  or 
traced,  in  the  jungle.  In  view  of  the  exceptional  interest  which 
at  just  this  juncture  attaches  to  the  place,  the  extracts  have  a 
distinct  historical  interest  as  well  as  value.  Well  worth  repro- 
duction, therefore,  it  is  nevertheless  difficult  to  make  them  in 
all  respects  conform  to  facts  and  appearances. 

In  the  first  place,  the  topography  of  the  site  and  surroundings 
is  as  Antonio  described  it  four  centuries  ago;  but  the  founda- 
tions and  ruins  still  remaining  of  the  structures  — fortifica- 
tions, ways,  bridges  and  edifices  — are  at  variance  with  the 
statement  that  the  town,  as  such,  was  ever  of  considerable 
size.  Limited  to  an  area  of  at  most  two  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three  hundred  acres,  the  ruins  now  remaining  and  the  scattered 
fragments  of  tile  show  conclusively  that  Panama  Viejo  never 
could  have  contained  within  its  limits  either  the  buildings  and 
dwellings,  or  the  avenues,  streets  and  ways  described.  Both 
the  public  edifices  and  the  private  houses  were  limited  in  size  — 
of  modest  dimensions,  as  we  would  phrase  it  — and,  apparently, 
packed  closely  together.  In  place  of  the  fifty  thousand  some- 
times credited  to  them,  they  never,  on  any  reasonable  estimate, 
could  have  sufficed  to  accommodate  a population  in  excess  of 
seven  thousand.  Ten  thousand  would  be  a maximum.  The 
foundations  of  “the  royal  houses  builded  upon  a rock”  are 
still  there;  so  also  those  of  the  “audience  or  chancerie,”  as  like- 
wise the  prison;  all  “adjoining  together  one  by  another  along 
upon  the  rocks.”  But  those  foundations  afford  proof  positive  of 
the  dimensions  of  the  superstructures.  By  their  proximity  to 
each  other,  also,  they  show  that  there  never  could  have  been  any 
“broad  streets”  or  wide  thoroughfares  in  the  town  or  approach- 
ing it;  and  the  bridge,  of  which  we  are  informed  that  “two  or 
three  piers”  only  remain,  never  had  but  a single  span,  both 
short  and  narrow,  thrown  across  a contemptible  mud-creek, 
almost  devoid  of  water  in  the  dry  season  or  at  low  tide;  and  that 


33 


single  span  — a very  picturesque  one,  by  the  way  — is  still 
there.  That  a great  store  of  wealth  for  those  days  annually 
passed  through  Old  Panama,  there  can  be  no  question.  The 
place  was,  however,  merely  a channel;  and,  after  a fairly  close 
inspection,  I do  not  hesitate  to  repeat  that  the  stories  of  its  art, 
its  population  and  its  treasures  — generally  of  its  size  and 
splendor  — constitute  about  as  baseless  an  historic  fabric  as 
the  legions  that  fought  at  Marathon  or  the  myriads  that  fol- 
lowed Xerxes.  Old  Panama,  as  seen  through  the  imagination 
of  modern  investigators,  bears,  I believe,  just  about  as  much 
resemblance  to  the  sixteenth  century  reality  as  Francis  Drake’s 
Golden  Hind  would  bear  to  a present-day  Atlantic  liner,  say 
the  Lusitania. 


PANAMA  1 

PAnama  is  the  principall  citie  of  this  Dioces:  it  lieth  18.  leagues 
from  Nombre  de  Dios  on  the  South  sea,  and  standeth  in  9.  degrees. 
There  are  3.  Monasteries  in  this  said  city  of  fryers,  the  one  is  of 
Dominicks,  the  other  is  of  Augustines,  and  the  third  is  of  S.  Francis 
fryers:  also  there  is  a College  of  Jesuits,  and  the  royall  audience 
or  chancery  is  kept  in  this  citie. 

This  citie  is  situated  hard  by  the  sea  side  on  a sandy  bay:  the  one 
side  of  this  citie  is  environed  with  the  sea,  and  on  the  other  side  it  is 
enclosed  with  an  arme  of  the  sea  which  runneth  up  into  the  land 
1000.  yards. 

This  citie  hath  three  hundred  and  fiftie  houses,  all  built  of  timber, 
and  there  are  sixe  hundred  dwellers  and  eight  hundred  souldiers 
with  the  townesmen,  and  foure  hundred  Negros  of  Guyney,  and 
some  of  them  are  freemen:  and  there  is  another  towne  which  is 
called  Santa  Cruz  la  Real  of  Negros  Simerons,  and  most  of  them 
are  imployed  in  your  majesties  service,  and  they  are  100.  in  num- 
ber, and  this  towne  is  a league  from  this  citie  upon  a great  rivers 
side,  which  is  a league  from  the  sea  right  over  against  the  harbour 
of  Pericos.  But  there  is  no  trust  nor  confidence  in  any  of  these 
Negros,  and  therefore  we  must  take  heede  and  beware  of  them,  for 
* they  are  our  mortall  enemies. 

1 From  a “Relation  of  the  ports,  harbors,  forts,  and  cities  in  the  West  Indies 
which  have  been  surveied,  edified,  finished,  made  and  mended,  with  those  which 
l have  bene  builded,  in  a certaine  survey  by  the  king  of  Spaine  his  direction  and 

commandement:  Written  by  Baptista  Antonio,  surveyour  in  those  parts  for  the 
said  King.  Anno  1587.  It  was  printed  in  Hakluyt’s  Principall  Navigations , m. 
554,  and  in  the  edition  of  1904,  in  x.  148. 


34 


There  are  three  sundry  wayes  to  come  to  this  citie,  besides  the 
sea,  where  the  enemy  may  assault  us.  The  one  is  at  the  bridge 
which  is  builded  upon  the  river:  and  on  the  one  side  of  this,  there 
lieth  a creeke:  so  on  this  side  the  citie  is  very  strong,  because  it  is 
all  soft  muddie  ground,  for  in  no  way  they  cannot  goe  upon  it.  And 
right  over  against  it  there  lyeth  a river  which  is  in  maner  like  unto 
a ditch  or  moate;  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  River  there  lyeth  a 
great  Lake  or  Pond  which  is  full  of  water  all  the  Winter,  and  part 
of  the  Sommer,  so  that  on  this  side  the  city  is  very  strong,  for  with 
very  small  store  of  souldiers  this  place  might  bee  kept  verie  well. 

The  greatest  danger  for  the  surprising  of  this  citie  is  the  way 
that  doth  come  from  Nombre  de  Dios:  for  all  this  way  is  playne 
ground  and  no  woods:  and  2000  yardes  from  this  citie  there  lyeth  a 
river  called  Lavanderas,  where  the  women  doe  use  to  wash  their 
linnen:  and  this  river  doth  goe  into  the  creeke,  according  as  I have 
certified  your  majestie:  and  being  once  past  this  river,  there  is  a 
causey  which  goeth  directly  unto  them.  The  other  way  which 
doth  go  towards  the  citie  is  lower  downe  towards  the  sea  at  a stone 
bridge  lying  upon  the  way  which  goeth  to  the  harbour  of  Perico. 

These  two  wayes  cannot  be  kept  nor  resisted,  because  it  is  all  plaine 
ground  and  medowes. 

Upon  the  East  side  of  this  citie  there  are  your  majesties  royall 
houses  builded  upon  a rocke  joyning  hard  to  the  Sea  side,  and  they 
doe  aswell  leane  towards  the  sea  as  the  land.  The  royall  audience 
or  chancerie  is  kept  here  in  these  houses,  and  likewise  the  prison. 

And  in  this  place  all  your  majesties  treasure  is  kept.  There  dwelleth 
in  these  houses  your  majesties  Treasurer,  the  Lord  President,  and  3. 

Judges,  and  master  Atturney.  All  these  doe  dwell  in  these  houses, 
and  the  rest  of  your  majesties  officers:  which  are  sixe  houses  besides  ' 
those  of  the  Lord  President,  the  which  are  all  dwelling  houses,  and 
all  adjoyning  together  one  by  another  along  upon  the  rockes.  And 
they  are  builded  all  of  timber  and  bourdes,  as  the  other  houses  are. 

So  where  the  prison  standeth  and  the  great  hall,  these  two  places 
may  bee  very  well  fortified,  because  they  serve  so  fitly  for  the  pur- 
pose, by  reason  they  are  builded  towardes  the  sea,  and  that  there 
lye  certaine  small  rocks,  which  at  a lowe  water  are  all  discovered 
and  drie,  and  some  of  them  are  seene  at  a high  water.  Right  over 
these  houses  to  the  Eastwardes  there  lyeth  an  Island  about  five 
hundred  yardes  from  these  houses,  and  the  Island  is  in  forme  of  a 
halfe  moone;  and  in  this  order  it  runneth  all  alongst  very  neere  the 
maine  land:  so  over  against  these  houses  there  lyeth  the  harbour 
where  all  the  shippes  doe  use  to  ride  at  an  anker,  after  that  they  have  J 

discharged  and  unladen  their  marchandize.  For  when  they  have 
their  lading  aboord,  there  can  come  in  none  but  small  Barkes,  and 


at  a lowe  water  the  shippes  are  all  aground  and  drie,  and  so  is  all 
the  space  some  thirtie  yardes  from  those  houses.  Right  over  against 
them  standeth  the  citie. 

When  newes  were  brought  to  this  citie  of  those  Pirates  which 
were  come  upon  this  coast,  the  Lord  President  and  Judges  com- 
manded that  there  should  a sconce  bee  made,  and  trenched  round 
about,  made  all  of  timber  for  the  defence  of  this  citie  against  the 
enemie,  and  to  keep  your  majesties  treasure.  So  your  officers  caused 
Venta  de  Cruzes  to  be  fortified,  and  likewise  Chagre,  and  Quebrada, 
and  fortified  the  garrison  of  Ballano:  for  all  these  are  places  where 
the  enemy  may  land,  and  by  this  meanes  spoyle  all  this  countrey. 

There  are  three  sundry  places  where  this  citie  may  without  diffi- 
culty be  taken,  and  spoyled  by  the  Pirates.  The  first  is  on  the 
North  seas  in  a certaine  place  which  lyeth  foureteene  leagues  from 
Nombre  de  Dios,  the  place  is  called  Aele  to  the  Eastwards,  where 
once  before  certaine  men  of  warre  have  entred  into  those  seas.  The 
other  place  is  Nombre  de  Dios,  although  this  is  a bad  place  and 
naughtie  wayes,  and  full  of  waters  and  a very  dirtie  way:  for  three 
partes  of  the  yeere  the  countrey  people  doe  travell  upon  those  waters, 
and  an  other  very  badde  way,  which  is  the  going  up  of  certaine 
rockes  and  mountaines  which  they  must  climbe,  called  the  moun- 
taines  of  Capira,  which  are  of  height  three  quarters  of  a league,  so 
in  this  place  with  very  small  store  of  souldiers  wee  can  defend  our 
selves  from  the  fury  of  the  enemie,  so  these  dwellers  doe  say  that 
in  Sommer  the  wayes  are  very  good  without  either  dirt  or  water. 

The  other  entrance  is  up  the  river  of  Chagre,  which  rivers  mouth 
lyeth  eighteene  leagues  from  Nombre  de  Dios  to  the  Westwards 
falling  into  the  North  sea,  and  this  is  the  place  which  the  citizens  of 
Panama  doe  most  feare,  for  they  may  come  up  this  river  to  Venta 
de  Cruzes,  and  so  from  thence  march  to  this  citie,  which  is  but  five 
leagues  off.  So  up  this  river  there  goe  boates  and  barkes  which  doe 
carry  320.  Quintals  waight.  These  are  they  which  carry  the  most 
part  of  the  marchandize  which  doe  come  from  Spaine  to  be  trans- 
ported to  Peru,  and  from  Venta  de  Cruzes  it  is  carried  to  Limaret 
which  is  three  leagues  off  that  place,  and  the  dwellers  doe  report 
that  it  is  a very  good  way:  and  if  any  men  of  warre  will  attempt  to 
come  into  these  seas,  they  may  very  easily  come  up  this  river  as 
farre  as  Venta  de  Cruzes,  and  from  thence  march  unto  this  citie, 
and  if  the  enemy  will,  they  may  bring  their  pinnesses  ready  made  in 
foure  quarters,  and  so  taken  in  sunder,  may  afterwards  set  them 
together  againe:  as  it  is  reported  that  Francis  Drake  hath  used  it 
once  before  when  he  came  that  voyage;  and  so  he  may  attempt  us 
both  by  sea  and  land.  And  forasmuch  as  the  most  part  of  these 
people  are  marchants,  they  will  not  fight,  but  onely  keepe  their 


36 


owne  persons  in  safetie,  and  save  their  goods;  as  it  hath  bene  sene 
heretofore  in  other  places  of  these  Indies. 

So  if  it  will  please  your  majesty  to  cause  these  houses  to  bee 
strongly  fortified,  considering  it  standeth  in  a very  good  place  if  any 
sudden  alarms  shoulde  happen,  then  the  citizens  with  their  goods  * 

may  get  themselves  to  this  place,  and  so  escape  the  terrour  of  the 
enemy:  and  so  this  will  be  a good  securitie  for  all  the  treasure  which 
doth  come  from  Peru.  So  all  the  Pirats  and  rebels,  which  have 
robbed  in  these  parts,  have  gone  about  what  they  can  to  stoppe  this 
passage,  and  so  by  this  meanes  to  stoppe  the  trade  of  Spaine,  and 
to  set  souldiers  in  this  place,  for  to  intercept  and  take  your  majesties 
treasure,  whereby  none  might  be  caried  into  Spaine.  Therefore  it 
behooveth  your  majestie  to  fortifie  these  places  very  strongly. 

These  places  being  fortified  in  this  maner,  your  majesty  shal 
have  al  your  gold  and  silver  brought  home  in  safetie  which  com- 
meth  from  Peru.  And  all  those  commodities  which  are  laden  in 
Spaine  may  come  safe  to  this  place.  And  if  perchance  any  rebels 
should  rise  in  these  parts,  which  would  rebel  against  your  majesty, 
which  God  forbid,  & if  they  should  chance  to  joyn  with  any  of 
these  pirats,  having  this  place  so  wel  fortified,  & Puerto  Bello  in  ye 
North  parts,  & so  to  send  some  garrison  your  majestie  needs  not  to 
feare:  for  here  in  this  harbor  are  alwayes  io  or  12  barks  of  60  or  50 
tunnes  apiece,  which  do  belong  to  this  harbor.  So  if  any  of  these 
places  shalbe  intercepted,  then  your  majestie  hath  no  other  place 
fitter  then  this  to  land  your  majesties  souldiers,  for  then  they  have 
but  18.  leagues  to  march  by  land,  & presently  they  may  be  shipped 
to  supply  these  places  which  shal  stand  in  most  need  of  them.  In 
al  the  coast  of  Peru  there  is  no  harbour  that  hath  any  shipping  but 
onely  this  place,  and  the  citie  of  Lima,  where  there  are  some  ships 
and  barks.  The  harbour  being  thus  open  without  any  defence,  a 
man  of  war  may  very  easily  come  to  this  place,  as  I have  certified 
your  majestie,  thorow  the  streits  of  Magellane,  & arrive  at  that 
instant,  when  those  barks,  do  come  from  Peru  with  your  majesties 
gold  & silver,  for  sometimes  they  bring  5 or  6 millions  in  those  barks ; 
so  the  enemy  may  come  and  take  al  their  treasure,  & not  leese  one 
man,  because  here  is  not  one  man  to  resist  him,  therefore  this  place 
being  thus  fortified,  the  treasure  may  be  kept  in  the  fort.  There  is 
a trench  made  round  about  your  majesties  houses  which  are  builded 
of  timber:  the  President  and  Judges  did  cause  it  to  be  made,  for  that 
here  was  newes  brought  that  there  were  certaine  men  of  warre,  & 
pirats  comming  for  these  parts.  So  this  trench  is  thus  maintained 
until  such  time  as  your  majesties  pleasure  is  to  the  contrary,  & in  ^ 

such  wise  that  your  souldiers  may  fight  lying  behind  the  trench;  so 
there  is  order  given  to  build  a platforme  upon  the  plaine  ground, 


37 


and  so  to  plant  such  ordinance  in  those  places,  as  shall  be  thought 
most  convenient. 

If  it  wil  please  your  majestie,  here  we  may  make  a sconce  or  fort 
toward  the  land  side,  & so  trench  it  round  about  and  build  it  with 
# stone,  because  here  is  a place  and  al  things  readie  for  the  same  pur- 

pose; and  by  this  meanes  the  citie  would  be  securely  kept:  as  for  the 
sea  there  is  no  danger  at  al,  by  reason  that  the  water  doth  ebbe  & 
flow  twise  a day,  and  then  when  it  is  ebbing  water  it  wil  be  all  ozy 
& muddy  ground  and  rocks,  so  that  in  no  wise  at  a low  water  the 
enemy  can  wade  over  the  mud  to  come  to  this  city,  and  it  reacheth 
from  the  Island  til  you  come  to  the  bridge  called  Paita.  Two  leagues 
from  this  city  there  lieth  a harbor  called  Perico  downe  to  the  West- 
ward: this  is  a very  sure  harbour  by  reason  of  3.  Islands  which  do 
joyne  in  manner  of  a halfe  moone,  they  lie  halfe  a league  from  the 
maine,  the  Islands  do  enclose  the  harbor  round  about,  the  harbour 
is  a very  high  land,  and  the  Hands  are  but  reasonable  high,  there  is 
good  store  of  fresh  water:  also  there  hath  never  any  ship  bene  cast 
away  in  this  harbour,  for  there  is  7.  fathome  water  at  ful  sea,  and 
3 or  4 fathome  at  lower  water,  and  very  good  ground  for  their  anker- 
ing,  and  when  they  will  trimme  their  ships,  they  may  hale  them 
ashore.  All  those  ships  and  barks  which  come  from  Peru  with  gold, 
silver  or  any  other  kind  of  commodities,  do  first  come  to  an  anker  in 
this  harbour,  and  if  they  have  a contrary  weather  they  cannot  come 
into  the  harbour  of  Panama;  and  for  so  much  as  the  harbour  hath 
no  defence  for  the  safegard  of  the  ships,  if  a man  of  warre  should 
chance  to  come  into  the  harbour,  all  the  barks  with  the  treasure 
may  be  very  easily  taken.  And  likewise  these  barks  & ships  which 
do  navigate  in  the  South  seas  carrie  not  so  much  as  one  piece  of 
ordinance  or  a rapier  to  defend  them  withall.  From  this  place  to 
Venta  de  Cruzes  is  not  passing  5 leagues;  so  that  if  any  pinnesse 
should  happen  to  arrive  there,  no  doubt  but  they  might  robbe  and 
take  al  your  treasure  which  is  in  those  barks,  by  reason  that  from 
the  shore  they  cannot  be  rescued  nor  holpen,  because  it  is  an  Island 
and  refuge  for  all  ships  and  barks.  If  it  would  please  your  majestie 
here  might  some  fort  or  defence  bee  made  in  the  middlemost  Island, 
and  some  ordinance  planted,  and  this  might  bee  made  with  little 
charges,  because  in  the  said  Island  there  are  all  kinde  of  necessaries 
fit  for  that  purpose,  so  by  this  meanes  your  majestie  may  have  both 
the  harbour  and  the  citie  very  well  kept. 

And  likewise  there  is  another  entering  into  the  South  sea  which  is 
called  the  river  of  Francisca,  which  lieth  on  this  side  of  the  Cabe^a 
C de  Cativa,  and  this  river  doth  come  into  another  river  which  is  called 

Caracol,  and  is  five  leagues  from  this  citie;  and  once  before  these 
Simerons  brought  into  this  place  certaine  Frenchmen. 


The  River  of  Chagre 


THe  river  of  Chagre  lieth  in  9.  degrees  and  one  tierce.  The  mouth 
of  this  river  is  in  the  North  seas  18.  leagues  from  Nombre  de  Dios, 
and  13.  leagues  from  Puerto  Bello:  there  is  caryed  up  this  river  cer- 
taine  quantitie  of  those  merchandize  which  are  unladen  at  Nombre 
de  Dios  which  come  from  Spaine.  From  the  mouth  of  this  river  to 
Venta  de  Cruzes  are  eighteene  leagues.  From  this  place  where  the 
barkes  unlade  their  commodities,  they  are  carried  upon  mules  to 
Panama,  which  is  but  five  leagues  off  from  this  place. 

This  river  hath  great  store  of  water  in  the  Winter.  And  the 
barkes  which  belong  to  this  river  are  commonly  of  320.  Quintals 
that  is  of  16.  tunnes  in  burthen:  but  in  the  Summer  there  is  but 
small  store  of  water:  so  then  the  barkes  have  much  to  doe  to  get  up 
this  river:  and  in  many  places  these  barks  are  constrained  to  un- 
lade their  commodities;  and  are  drawen  by  mens  strength  and  force 
a good  way  up  the  river,  and  therefore  if  it  would  please  your 
majestie  to  command  that  all  those  goods  may  bee  first  unladen  in 
Puerto  Bello,  and  there  to  build  a litle  castle  in  the  mouth  of  the 
said  river,  and  at  the  foote  of  the  castle  to  build  a storehouse  to  un- 
lade and  keepe  all  the  sayd  goods,  and  there  to  build  other  barks  of 
lesse  burthen;  then  these  would  serve  for  Sommer,  and  the  great 
barks  for  the  Winter. 

If  it  would  please  your  majestie,  there  might  a very  good  high  way 
be  made  on  the  one  side  of  the  river,  and  so  they  might  bee  towed,  for 
it  may  bee  made  and  not  with  much  cost  because  it  is  all  plaine  ground, 
and  there  is  growing  upon  the  sayd  river  great  store  of  timber  and 
trees  which  doe  lie  over- thwart  the  said  River;  so  that  they  are  very 
cumbersome  and  great  annoiance  unto  the  said  boates,  as  well  those 
that  go  up  the  said  River,  as  also  that  doe  come  downe  the  said  River. 

And  therefore  if  it  might  please  your  majestie  to  command,  that 
Puerto  Bello  might  be  inhabited,  and  the  towne  made  neerer  the 
Rivers  side,  every  thing  would  be  a great  deale  better  cheape,  if  the 
commodities  were  caryed  up  the  River;  for  it  is  a great  danger  to 
cary  them  up  by  land,  for  it  is  daily  seene  that  the  mules  do  many 
times  fall  and  breake  their  neckes  with  their  lading  upon  their  backs, 
as  well  the  treasure  as  other  kinde  of  commodities,  because  it  is  such 
a bad  way.  And  your  majestie  might  be  at  this  charges  and  spend 
your  revenewes  of  Nombre  de  Dios  and  Panama,  which  do  yerely 
yield  12  or  14  thousand  pezos,  & this  being  once  done  it  would  be  a 
great  ayd  and  benefit  to  those,  which  doe  trade  and  trafficke,  and 
to  those  merchantes  which  doe  send  their  goods  over-land,  and  ease 
them  much  of  paine  and  purse,  because  the  other  is  a most  filthy 
way,  as  any  is  in  the  world. 


4 


